That Thing Called Family
by KiyaNamiel
Summary: Willow didn't ask to be part of this insane plan, neither did she ask to be a pawn of the universe itself. But when Thanos threatens the entire universe's existence, the cosmos has to defend itself, after all... She's got plenty to complain about, but somehow, she can't seem to actually bring herself to. Girl-in-MCU, fix-it fic of sorts. Spans all of MCU.
1. Prologue

_Well. I have been working on this for almost a year now, and after hitting 40-some chapters I decided that I'd start to post and see if I can do even a fragment of justice to the Marvel fandom. Y'all are powerful and great, and I've had so much fun and laughter and tears and hair-pulling to try to make a meat-and-potatoes fanfiction focusing on character-development and also throw in some classic Girl-in-MCU and fix-it plotline. I'm just going to warn you now: I'm a character-driven writer, so I prefer focusing on character-development than world-building, but I have tried to do both in reasonable amounts. So: come for the laughs, stay for the tears! *evil grin* Please, enjoy. *bows self out*_

* * *

 ** _I would be true, for there are those who trust me; I would be pure, for there are those who care. I would be strong, for there is much to suffer; I would be brave, for there is much to dare. I would be friend of all - the foe, the friendless; I would be giving, and forget the gift. I would be humble, for I know my weakness; I would look up, and laugh, and love, and lift._**

 ** _\- Howard A. Walter_**

* * *

"Man, what I wouldn't give to be able to go to the theatre and see the rerun," the sulking voice was followed by sly laughter.

"Should I rub the fact that I did into your face?" Willow teased her friend Anna, who rolled her eyes long-sufferingly.

"Oh be quiet, you," Anna huffed unconvincingly in reply, then cracked into a smile. "Anyways, did you enjoy your last day of school before summer break?" She grinned as Willow's face lit up.

"Sure did! I was certain that I'd die from that speech at assembly, and I pretty much botched it, but-"

"Well you didn't necessarily _botch_ it, but you sure looked like you were about to cry," Anna said thoughtfully.

"Odin's beard, Anna, that was just _so_ encouraging," Willow complained as Anna grinned unrepentantly.

"Aren't I the best? Anyways, Miss Painful Shyness, did you look up the stuff I asked?" Anna went on.

"Cool yourself sister from another mister, I did," Willow sighed. "So basically what I found out is that there are several timelines in the Multiverse that allow some of the movies to be swapped chronologically without completely skewing the storyline," she informed her friend.

"You have so memorized all of the movies, haven't you," Anna sounded resigned.

"Hey, I'm a fan okay? And not all, I don't remember much of Iron Man two and three except for the major details," Willow defended herself valiantly. Anna snorted, then looked out the window of the bus.

"Oh hey, here's our stop!" She grabbed Willow's hand and dragged her off the bus. "I've still got a bit of stuff left to do, catch you tomorrow?" she asked, and Willow nodded.

"Sure Anna, see ya then." Willow grinned and they parted ways. By the time Willow reached her bedroom after reading the note on the dining table informing her that her parents would be gone for a few hours, she threw her book bag on the desk and flopped across her bed. With a sigh, she looked up at the ceiling.

"Whelp, time to get moving for dinner," she told herself aloud, and stood up with a groan and walked to her door, reaching out for the handle and twisting it open.

The door slammed shut. Willow stared at it, wide-eyed, gulping heavily and trying to calm her panicked breathing. "Okay, okay girl, no need to worry, it's totally just your mind playing tricks," she panted, then took another deep breath and twisted the doorknob, cracking it open and peering through.

"Nope," she slammed the door shut again. "Nope nope nope, there is _not_ a grey nothingness outside my door, absolutely not, everything is just _totally_ okay," she told herself, then slumped against the door. "This is _not okay_ ," she whimpered, not even bothering to look out the window in her room. The room had gone dark a few moments ago.

 **Willow. Willow, child, come out.**

"And that is _totally_ not a voice from nowhere telling me to leave my room, absolutely not, nope, yep, I am _not_ okay!" Willow burst into hysterical sobbing, utterly confused and scared witless. "I'm just sixteen, please don't hurt me!" It was a ridiculous thing to say and she knew it, but by Fury's eyepatch she was young and she was scared and there was nothing else to say.

There seemed to be a sigh from nowhere and everywhere. **I knew this was not the best way to go about things. Willow, come child, do not be frightened. No harm shall befall you.**

Willow sat for a moment, debating her choices. There wasn't much, really. Stay in her room for probably forever, or go out and face death. Neither was particularly appealing, but she knew which one she'd rather take. And besides, there was a niggling feeling in the back of her mind that told her that this being or whatever was out there would wait as long as it took for her to come out. So, sitting there for another ten minutes, she gathered courage from somewhere inside herself and stood, wiping the tears from her eyes and slowly cracking the door open. For another few minutes she just stared at the grayness, then with a sigh, opened the door all the way and stood just on the threshold.

 **Hello, child. Step out, there is no need to be afraid. I will hold you safe.**

Willow's eyebrows furrowed in confusion for a moment, then deciding that she didn't really have a choice anyway, held one foot out tentatively and prodded with her toe. _Something_ was solid, because her foot didn't drop. So with a deep breath, she squeezed her eyes shut and took the leap of faith quite literally, jumping out and being honestly surprised when her teeth jarred painfully from the swift landing.

There seemed to be a chuckle. **Dear one, I have missed you and your antics.**

"Wait, I knew you?" Willow's question was genuine and curious. She wasn't sure how to feel about the fact that the disembodied voice knew her, but the new revelation that she knew or had known it-him-her-whatever was frankly interesting.

 **Yes, my dear. You knew me as well. But that is of no importance - you will grow to know me again, in a different way than you knew me last. Now come, time is of essence and I have only a little in which to explain.**

"Wait, wait, who are you? And where am I? My family, my friends? I don't understand!" Willow felt frustrated by this point, crying in anger and confusion and impatiently swiping away tears.

 **I know, dear one, fret not. You will know all in time. You were sent away for a time, to learn. To learn of things that you will need to know, and to learn what it is like to be mortal. Now, you are being sent back to your home. Fix things, sweet one. Do not let things come to pass that were not meant to be. Fix things. This one gift is all that I can give you... We shall meet again. Farewell, my dear child.**

"No, wait, I don't understand! What do you mean, child? Sent away? I have family! Learn what? Fix what!?" Willow wanted to scream more, demand more, but suddenly a song began to come from everywhere and nowhere, and there was not a chance to ponder the faintly wistful tone in the last several sentences, because she was suddenly feeling unbearably sleepy. The lullaby went on, and she slumped, unable to keep her eyes open as things began to slowly fade away...

* * *

 _*pops in for a second* I apologize if there's any discrepancies from MCU canon, I started writing this before major movies like Infinity War came out, so some things I put in here might be based on the popular fan theories. Also I apologize for any timeline mistakes, please just bear with them and forgive me, I promise that I've tried to do my research! We'll just brush them off as taking advantage of the Multiverse, hmm? *wink*_


	2. Be Careful What You Wish For

There was a slow, steady creaking in her ears. She wasn't sure what it was, but it was somehow soothing, and she took a moment to listen to it with a sense of contentment. In another moment, however, her mind caught up with her and she began to feel a sense of panic. Where was she? Who was that she had been speaking to not moments before? What was she supposed to fix? Why _her_!? She didn't want this, she wanted to be back home with her family!

A whimper escaped her mouth, and the creaking abruptly stopped. Willow started to full-on panic, and her eyes popped open. The world was fuzzy, and an unfamiliar and blurred face made her began to try to thrash, only to find that she _couldn't._

"Oh no, don't move dearie, just calm down!" The sound of a feminine voice made her calm down slightly, beginning to breathe heavily and finding it hard. She knew she was slightly asthmatic, but it shouldn't be this hard to breathe. She forced herself to calm down, knowing that wherever she was, it wouldn't help to panic. She'd read enough about weird situations to know that she was being unwise. But then, she rationalized sourly, she _was_ only sixteen.

Her eyesight focused again, only to realize that she was hard of sight. Everything was horrifically blurry, and it made her feel uncomfortable. How had her sight become so blurry? The face appeared again, but this time she saw that it was distinctly female and anxious-looking.

"Hey there honey, can you hear me?" the lady said smoothly, and she managed to nod jerkily, letting out a slight gasp of pain. "Okay, good. Do you know where you are?" she asked next, and Willow struggled to make her mind work. Where-? She shook her head. "How about your name then, and your parents?" she asked, and Willow scrunched her face. Of course she remembered!

She attempted to speak, and found that her voice was scratchy and hoarse, sounding not at all like herself. "Willow Stark," her voice rasped, and immediately she fell silent. No, no no no wait, that was _not_ her name. She was _not_ Willow _Stark_. "Willow Stark," she tried again, and it came out wrong again.

"It's fine, dear, it's good that you know. Your Father is on the way, alright? You've been asleep for a very long time, and he's anxious to see you." The lady tried to soothe her, and Willow began to feel panic rise in her again. Asleep!? For how long!? Why?

"Thank you, Miz Linette, please excuse me vhile I check her," a familiarly accented voice said, and the nurse - as Willow realized by the cap on her head, though that was weird because it was totally the wrong time period for that thing - nodded and moved away. A door closed soon after, and a new face appeared in her line of vision.

"Hello there, Villow. Ve vere afraid that you vouldn't make it," the man she assumed to be the doctor said, and she peered at him more closely. Was that a German accent? He leaned closer with a friendly smile, and Willow immediately began to hear bells go off in her head. No, _no_ , it _couldn't_ be-

The door slammed open. "Doctor Erskine! Is it true that she's-" There was a harried voice laced with urgent concern that stopped as a new figure paused by her bedside, seeing her. She turned towards him fully, trying to see him through blurred eyes. "You're awake," the man breathed, and his voice sounded impossibly familiar as well. The panic was rising again. He knelt, clasping her hand, and his face came into focus. "Oh Willow, I thought you were gone, and they told me that you wouldn't wake again, and I missed you so much, darlin'-" his voice cracked, and Willow felt her mind go into shutdown. No, oh _heck_ no, she was _so_ not in the same room as the _completely_ fictional characters of Doctor Erskine and _Howard Stark._ No. Then the panic washed over her and everything went black.

* * *

 **Child, you were not supposed to return.**

The voice sounded displeased. Well then the voice could go sit on a tack.

"I need answers. Look, I've got a family and-"

 **Yes, child, you do, but not the family you are thinking of. Willow Stark is who you were born as, and you have been in the hospital in a coma for a year. It is the year 1943, the beginning of World War II, and the life you believed to have lived for the past sixteen years is but a dream that I sent to you to learn what things were necessary.**

The blunt answer had Willow reeling, sitting down hard and placing her head in her hands. So her life... Those sixteen years... Her friends and parents - had been a dream? All concocted by a comatose mind? But _why_?

And then the reason hit her. _Fix it_ is what the voice had said, and _you needed to learn._ She was in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. That had been Abraham Erskine and Howard Stark, for real, and she knew _everything._ She knew what had been, what is, and what was to come. _That's_ why she was here. Frustration and sudden anger like no other overcame her.

"But that's not fair!" she suddenly shrieked, standing up again and clenching her fists. "It's not _fair_ that you let me love like that and then tell me it was all a _dream_. Alright, I get that I needed to learn the future, but then why not just give me the information? Why did I have to live another life? Why me?" and then she was weeping, sobbing into her arms because she already knew the answer, and knew that the voice knew it as well.

She needed to live it because she needed to learn to love. She needed an emotional investment in the movies, in the characters, because otherwise why would she have any reason to save them? To change things?

She understood. But there were still _questions_ she had that she _needed_ answers to, because she didn't know who she was anymore and it scared her like nothing else had ever done before. She had no identity anymore. "Who am I?" she finally whimpered, weak and utterly frail, and there was another, more saddened silence.

 **You are my child. I created you for myself. You are Willow Stark, and you are Willow Chavez. You are both. And you are also my child, which part of you you shall slowly regain. Learn again, dear one. When the time comes, you shall know all.**

It was not enough, not nearly enough, but Willow swallowed the bitter pill reluctantly. It would have to do. She would not easily move on from this. It was _not_ a dream to her, too fresh and too real. She didn't want this. She didn't ask for this. But because this was how it was, she accepted. There was nothing else to do. And perhaps, she thought morosely, perhaps in the end, she will find some restitution for this ordeal. For now, though, that was cold comfort.

The lullaby, as she had come to label it, started again, and this time she fell asleep readily.

* * *

Willow Stark. Born fifteen years ago, been in a coma for one. That made her sixteen. The daughter of Howard Anthony Stark, while her mother had died from childbirth. At twelve, she had fallen ill and been diagnosed with leukemia at first, then as Howard searched desperately for more and better doctors, Erskine had come along and admitted that it was a new illness that had never been seen before. A sort of cancer, was the best he could describe it. She was dying, to put it straight.

That was the first thing that flashed through Willow's mind as she came to fuzzy awareness.

"Well? What are the results?" A voice cut through her muddled mind.

"I'm sorry sir, she vill not last longer than a few years, being optimistic. I can do nothing more," a familiar voice replied.

A small whimper fell from her bloodless lips, and a moment later a hand was resting on her forehead. "Shh, it's alright Willow. It's alright," a voice said, sounding as though it were about to burst into tears any moment.

"Doctor," she rasped, determined to ask. She managed to peel open her eyelids, focusing drug-heavy eyes on the kindly German face framed with salt-and-pepper hair and a beard and mustache. Willow felt her heart convulse, remembering what happened to him later. The fact that he was _here,_ that he was _real_ , drove home and she felt close to tears.

"Yes, _katzchen_?" the Doctor replied gently.

For a moment she struggled with breath, then her hand moved slightly towards him. He held her hand and leaned towards her. "How - how long can you keep me alive?" she whispered, a plan forming in her mind.

"The medicine I made might be able to hold you here for about a year at most," he replied, patting her hand.

"Then that's... that's long enough," she rasped. "I - I want to see you find him. Please, let me see you find him," she said weakly. A new face appeared, and her bloodshot eyes traveled to her - father's - face.

"It's that all you want, honey?" he asked, sounding both heartbroken and hopeful. She nodded. "Then I'm gonna get permission for you to be able to follow me around, alright darlin'?" the man with the smooth black hair and mustache said, and saw with relief that she nodded.

"I'll do it Da," she whispered, and Howard Stark looked at Doctor Erskine.

"Do it." He nodded, and the Doctor nodded back calmly.

"I vill haf the medicine here by tomorrow," he replied, and packed up his bags to leave.

Howard sat next to her, holding her hand gently.

"Won't we have fun, looking at the machines and making tests?" He grinned, and Willow hummed exhaustedly, eyes closing. She might be able to get used to this. Maybe it was the drugged part of her, or the fact that she was young and prone to rebound, or the fact that she had cried herself dry and come to acceptance of her fate, or maybe a combination of them all, but she felt strangely resigned to her task. Besides, it was Marvel. Why wouldn't she be at least a _little_ excited? "Do you want to see the designs I made for the machine?" Howard asked, and she pressed his hand.

"Ya, Da," she murmured almost automatically, and Howard gently detached his hand to go find the papers. By the time he returned, however, she was asleep. He brushed his hand lightly over the white hair, eyes welling with bitter tears.

"Why does it have to be you, precious Willow?" he murmured. "First your mother, now you..."

He looked down dejectedly at the papers still clutched in his other hand. "I hope you'll live to see Doctor Erskine's dream come true," he whispered, then left quietly.

The sun set on the horizon, last tendrils of the light hovering for a moment on the prone figure of her withered body on the cot.

Willow dreamed on, mulling over the new-found fact that she wasn't human and coming to grips with her new reality. Life was harsh. But maybe, she could make the best of it.


	3. The Beginning of All

_Hey everyone! Thanks for the favorites, follows, and the comments. I hope you'll continue to enjoy as the story progresses. I hope to be able to update once a week. Please,_

 _Read!  
_

 _Enjoy!_

 _Review!_

* * *

Willow slowly came to consciousness, feeling an aching pain spread through her body. Boy, this hurt. She kind of wanted to ask the voice why she was so sick - because after all wasn't she supposed to live and change things? - but then decided that since she was plopped on this ride she might as well have fun while she was on it. Whatever would happen, would happen, and she could try to control what she could.

"Hey darlin', how you feeling?" Howard - her _dad_ \- asked, and she peeled one eyelid open with a grumpy frown.

"Annoyed," she summed up her feeling in one word, and sighed wearily. Okay, so she was in _real_ life now. That felt wrong on so many levels, but it was what it was and Willow accepted it, however reluctantly. Was this what coma patients had to deal with all the time?

There was a wry chuckle from next to her. "It's good to see you back in your normal mood," the cheeriness of his tone was ruined by the thick undertones.

She opened her eyes again, turning her head to look blearily at his figure sitting beside her bed. Her lack of proper vision made her feel terribly antsy, but she tried to get used to it. She was sick, after all, so she'd probably have to suffer worse than that. "I won't fall asleep again," she managed in a thick voice, knowing that he would recognize it as reassurance. A glass of water was held to her lips, and she drank thankfully, feeling her lips crack.

"It's alright, sweet cheeks. Just take it easy," but Howard's voice gave him away as it wavered. Willow felt odd, realizing that this was _actually_ Howard Anthony Stark, the billionaire genius of World War II that had helped with Project Rebirth and later came to be the father of -

 _Mother of Loki._

Willow almost choked on the water, the import of _who_ exactly she was the daughter of coming to her mind. Good Sleipnir, she was actually the _sister_ of _Tony Stark_ , the one and only Iron Man! Well, if she lived long enough, she realized, and then her mind started running.

Project Rebirth. She actually knew some of the details, and she could just fuzzily recall that she had helped to design the machinery that made Steve Rogers into Captain America. And that was another thing. She could actually meet Captain America, and Bucky Barnes! She held in a little shriek at the thought and looked back up into How- her _dad's_ eyes and tried a smile. It worked, to her relief. His face lit up and he grinned back.

"Hey Da?" she asked, her rusty vocal cords feeling better after the water and her natural tendency to speak softly.

"Yeah baby?" he asked, running a hand through her hair gently. Willow smiled at the contact, letting her delight for physical contact show.

"You didn't let me see the papers," she reminded with a teasing smile, and the light of what she could only call genius sprang into his eyes.

"Right here, Willow," he said excitedly, and Willow could see the same energy in him that was in her future brother. She swallowed a lump in her throat and pushed away the thought, taking the papers into her hands and bringing them closer to see. Her hands made her gut clench, seeing them so frail and thin. She'd always had long, dexterous fingers, and now her state of health made them look positively skeleton-like in their extra thinness. Her already bird-like wrists were now so thin they looked like glass. She forced herself to quell as much shaking as she could and focus on the paper. That's right, focus, she told herself firmly. This was reality and she apparently wasn't even human, so if she died she'd go _somewhere_. Don't worry about herself, focus on what she could do for others at the moment.

When she finally focused on the papers though, she felt her mind kind of blank at the complicated algorithms on the page. So she decided to skip that and instead focus on the designs, sketches, and notes. It was with interest that she noted that most of the notes had her handwriting on them, and familiarized herself again with their contents. By the time she finished, she gathered that she was apparently still terrible at math and science but great at writing, deduction and basic concept-grasping. At least she hadn't changed _too_ much from what her mind had made up for the past year.

"You made the changes before you... fell asleep," Howard said, edging around the word 'coma.' "You told me that the machine was too gaudy the way I wanted it," he practically pouted at his daughter, who gave a rasping laugh that ended in a grating cough.

"It was." She could somehow faintly remember the old design, big and hulking and painted in ridiculously patriotic colors.

"But you're making it military green!" he whined, and Willow felt pleased to know that she was the inspiration for the color, even if it was just a small detail.

"It only makes sense Da, stop whining," she replied sternly, then shuffled the papers till she reached the one about the project itself. "I - I don't remember, how did I find out?" she asked. And really, she wondered. She wasn't a mathematician or scientific genius, and neither was she in the list of important people to see such classified information, she was sure. But she was involved anyway. Was it just her father's insistence, or something else-?

"You were always so quiet that people would often forget you or not realize you were there. The board director came and introduced Doctor Erskine, and then talked about all the details while you were hiding in a corner until you chimed in with a suggestion. Scared the living daylights out of them, you did." He shook his head and Willow laughed and coughed again, shaking in amusement as she faintly recalled the scene. Little memories began to trickle back into her mind, faint ones and distant. But they were there, and proof that yes, this was not a dream and _this_ was real. She didn't remember her mother, but she realized that perhaps the people she had dreamed of as her parents were images of her real ones. Looking at Howard and remembering her dream-dad, she decided that it must be so. Dad Chavez had had blonde hair and blue eyes, but his facial features were the same if older. Her mother was a dark-haired, dark-eyed woman, but she didn't want to ask Dad Stark about it. He was always upset recalling Mum, she remembered fuzzily. Or at least, he sulked for a few days.

She realized Howard was speaking again. "So you decided to take a hand in the project because you were interested in the concept. I declared you my assistant, so there was nothing more to be said." Howard shrugged flippantly, and Willow smiled at his attitude towards life. So much like Tony would be one day. Her half-brother would be, one day, she realized, and felt a foreign feeling of detachment settled over her, like it wasn't really real. Well, it was and it wasn't. Like that wasn't confusing.

"Y-yeah," she managed, nodding slightly to show that she remembered. "And the platform," she said, looking down again at the sketches and seeing the rough outline of what she recalled from the movies.

"You were working on it, but didn't finish. I couldn't find one good enough." He shook his head as he bent to look with her. Willow tilted her head. Well... she wanted to have some fun, right-? But what if the voice was mad at her?

Then she shook her head at herself. The voice could go sit on a tack, she reminded herself. This was her life now and since she was given a purpose, she was gonna go about the way she wanted to go. It's not like she was given specific instructions anyways, she rationalized to herself decidedly.

"I think I have an idea," she said slowly, and Howard grabbed a pencil to give it to her. She took it and flipped the page over to the blank side, trying not to shake so much. "There's a large room for the consoles, right?" she asked, trying to think, and Howard nodded.

"Big enough for two entire computers," he grinned, and for once Willow thanked the voice for letting her attend school as the history nut she was. Otherwise, she knew she would have been so confused.

"Then all the power converters and generators and a few stat machines could go on the walls if you compressed them into rectangular squares like this," she thought it out loud, drawing the upright white containers around the perimeter of the paper. "And then have a platform in the middle, with the chair in the center of that - I _told_ you your design was too big - and then the main consoles around that, maybe to the left," she drew a rough and rather stick-like sketch, because she was _horrific_ at drawing and she knew it. In fact she was the musical one, not the artistic one. She wasn't sure if art even ran in her family's blood, and on further reflection, decided not. Howard and Tony alike had terrible taste in matching color, honestly.

Howard took the sketch from her and nodded, eyes narrowing as Willow could practically _see_ the calculations running through his head. "With the room dimensions, that would work... yes, I think it'll work. Would you look at that, I knew you were my daughter," he laughed and ruffled her hair affectionately. "Just out of hibernation and you've already solved the main problem." He smiled at her, and it suddenly occurred to Willow that he was far more affectionate than she had remembered the movies and comics portraying him. Maybe it was because she was sick, and he knew there wasn't time to spend with her-? Had she already brightened the future for her brother? The thought was both strange and pleasant, and perhaps her smile showed it, because his brown eyes softened.

"Hey, I'm going to go to the workroom to get the stuff prepared, and then set it up over the next few days. While I'm at it I'm going to make you a repulsor wheelchair, alright? That way you can come with me when we finally get it done," he said, trying to make his voice light as he studied her intently for any reaction. Willow just nodded, settling back into the pillows.

"I'm not as fast of a thinker as you Da, go ahead," she yawned, missing the concerned look on his face at the words.

"Get some rest." He patted her head and left quietly, while Willow stared up at the whitewashed ceiling. The entire room was rather dim and dreary, especially since there were no windows and the room was rather devoid of anything except for the cot, a table of medical supplies, and the lone chair beside her and the table. The walls were littered with tiny cracks too, indicating the war outside.

Her mind wandered to what was going on. So, she was now _back_ to being a Stark, she had a few memories to go by, Howard was still not very touchy-feely or emotion-sensitive (she could tell because her acting skills were not nearly up to par thanks to the ginormous reality check she'd had), and she was supposed to fix the universe. A deep sigh escaped her as she let out a tiny groan, both from mental and physical discomfort. But honestly, what was she supposed to do? She was about to die in the middle of World War II from apparently an unknown strain of cancer (she half guessed it was an advanced form of leukemia considering her symptoms), and she only had a year left at the most to do what she had to do. Then what? Make sure Steve Rogers becomes Captain America? But that would happen regardless of her presence anyway. Make sure Howard - _dad_ , why couldn't she get that in her mind - would treat Tony better? She didn't have enough time for that! Or maybe, she suddenly realized, maybe it was Tony himself. Maybe it had to do with him. But then why was she here in the now, and not in his era? Her eyebrows furrowed again. She needed more information about herself.

The door creaked again, and she turned to see another fuzzy figure come into view, the same white starched uniform and cocked nurse's hat prevalent. Heels clicked against the floor as the woman approached with water and a few pills in her hands. "Here, please take this," she said kindly, and Willow took it without complaint.

"Please-" she coughed as the scratchy feeling of the pills slowly faded. "C-can you tell me something?" she requested, and the woman nodded with a pitying look on her face that Willow resented. Hello, didn't anyone ever tell her that she was a soldier too for fighting cancer?

"Of course honey, what is it?"

"I - I remember some things about my childhood, but I think I've lost a bit," she said, trying to make her request as concisely as possible. "Can you tell me anything you know about me? I know my name and who I am, but not too many details of what others would know..."

The nurse sat down on the chair, folding her hands. "Well, I've been looking after you in this room for the past three months, so I'll try to tell you what I know from others, alright?" she asked, and Willow nodded. "You were healthy for the past fourteen years until the beginning of last year, when you started to get sick. It wasn't terrible until last April, when you started to rapidly deteriorate. Your father brought you to Doctor Erskine, who placed you here under his care. You've been in a coma for the past year, and today is the fifteenth of June, 1943. As far as I can tell, you are a very smart young lady, your mind as fast as your father's though you don't have the same interests as he does. You dream a lot, and like to write or doodle. You also like humming under your breath. I believe Mr. Stark once mentioned that your IQ was just below his own. I would guess that you mirror your father and mother equally. I'm afraid that's all I know, Miss Stark," she finished, and Willow nodded slowly.

"Thank you," she finally whispered. "That helps a lot," she smiled weakly, and the nurse returned it before walking back out.

Her IQ was just below his? She turned it over in her head. If she remembered correctly, that meant that she must be in the 220s or 230s somewhere. If so, why wasn't her mind mathematically and scientifically geared like her father? After a moment of mulling, she realized that she was both right and wrong. She _wasn't_ mathematically geared, but she _was_ scientifically smart, just not in the same fields as her father. She liked biology and also history, with a wide range of detailed knowledge on both. It was no wonder she merely suggested vague ideas for her father; because she could grasp concepts easily and put them to practical use, just not hash out the details like her father could. And also, she admitted, her mind was working considerably slower than it did before, probably because of her illness and disorientation from recent _disturbing_ news.

She thought it a bit spitefully, she knew, and felt a pang of guilt right after. She had dreamed of being in the Marvel universe, yes, but she just hadn't thought of what _exactly_ that entailed for her if she did. Well, now she knew. And it hurt like crazy.

And another thing, why did the date fifteenth of June in 1943 ring major bells in her head? Struggling to work through her muddled brain, she finally managed to pull out the Marvel dictionary on Steve Rogers - who likes apple pie, she thought with a grin - and sorted dates. June 14, 1943: the World Exposition of Tomorrow and the day Doctor Erskine decided on a candidate for Project Rebirth. Her breath hitched. She had told Doctor Erskine that she wanted to see the person he chose. Last night, she vaguely recalled, she had even begged to be allowed to see the kindly Doctor find the man he wanted for his dream. And he had agreed. Riffling through her mind frantically, she finally hazily settled on the date of June 22 as the day the project actually happened. And Dad had said that in a couple days he would be ready. Plus, he promised her a repulsor wheelchair, she thought slyly. Well, she'd certainly be ready. Even if she had to crawl there to get to it.

The door opened yet again, and Willow began to feel faintly annoyed at all the interruptions on her private thought times. But when she turned to see Doctor Erskine take a seat beside her bed, his scruffy hair and beard looking wilder than ever, all annoyance drained out of her as she perked up. She always liked the Doctor, in real life and her dream one. "Doctor?" she sounded both questioning and hopeful, though she tried not to be.

Forget this, she growled irritably to herself, she didn't want to be so emotionally unbalanced. Yes, she was hurting horrifically at 'losing' what was apparently a fake family based off of her real one and her good friends, however mental they were; but it had still taken root in her heart and darn it, it hurt to think about it. It was just so inconvenient to feel this disoriented, though she was grateful for the legitimate excuse that she had been in a coma for an entire year and probably wasn't entirely herself. It was enough to mess with the head just thinking about it. She knew it would hurt for a while, but that didn't mean she didn't resent the fact that it hurt and she couldn't afford to get distracted by it. That could come back to bite her.

" _Was_ , Villow?" he asked with a wan smile, and Willow frowned.

"You look tired," she said frankly, noticing the dark patches under his eyes and the strained look on his face, however blurry.

"Ja, I am, but don't vorry too much about it. I vill get some rest," he placated, but she continued to frown. She didn't like seeing him this way. She resolutely ignored the sarcastic little voice in her head telling her that liking him was a bad idea because _remember what happened to him eh?_

"I am serious, Villow, I am just fine," he insisted, then gently lifted her arm and took her pulse. "I vent to the Vorld Exposition of Tomorrow yesterday. Your father made a razer impressive display vid his repulsor technology," he went on in his heavy but pleasant German accent, talking to her like he would to a friend. Usually the sound of such an accent would make her feel odd, even frightened in this time period, but Doctor Erskine's voice was just too _gentle._ It wasn't edged with war, but rather with concern. It sounded safe.

"He said he was going to make me a wheelchair so I could go see the project when it happened," she volunteered, excitement leaking into her otherwise weak voice, and earned a smile as he checked her physical deterioration next.

"That is gud, Villow," he answered, sounding satisfied. "Does he haf the time? He vas vorried about the room size last time he spoke," he wondered, and she shook her head.

"I helped a bit. He's got it now, it just needs to be set up." She brushed it off. "What about you, Doctor?" And a wistful tone crept into her voice. "Did you find him yet?"

The Doctor finished his ministrations and took her hand, smiling at her gently. "I believe I haf, Villow," he answered confidingly, and Willow's eyes brightened in sly delight. Of course, she knew who it was, but to actually hear the Doctor say it was practically breathtaking. She was witnessing _history_ , she realized, and felt a shiver go down her spine. Oh, if only her other Marvelous friends could be with her now.

"Who?" she whispered back breathlessly, waiting to hear the famous name.

"His name is Steve Rogers," he answered, and Willow found it very hard indeed to keep herself from a shriek of pure delight. _It was actually him she had heard his name in history and it was actually happening and oh gosh she was even gonna be able to **see** him and this was so surreal-_

"What is he like?" her voice was even squeakier, which seemed to widen the Doctor's smile as though he could sense the beginnings of her hardcore hero worship. If only he knew, she thought giddily. "Is he everything we hoped?" and she knew she spoke for both her and her fandom. Who cares if the fandom wasn't reality, it was to her.

"I believe he is," Erskine said with immense satisfaction, which only sent her into a further tizzy of excitement. "Vould you believe, Villow, that he lied on five forms five different times to try to get in? He is so skinny, like you are now, and just as small," he went on, and Willow practically drank in the information like a starved little waif, eyes wide.

"He did?" her voice had quelled amusement in it, which made him chuckle. "Persistent, yeah?" she asked, sinking back into the pillows as her body protested her excited tension.

"He certainly is. I think you vill like him," he said contentedly, and Willow grasped his hand.

"What - what does he look like?" she asked. She knew, but she wanted to hear it from Erskine himself. She wanted to know how _he_ would describe Steve.

"He is blonde, like a German, vid green eyes," he answered, squeezing her hand softly. "He is short and skinny, and has many health problems, but he has a resilience that I think vill do him vell," he went on calmly, and Willow felt herself falling asleep at the sound of his lulling voice. "His voice is soft, but I think there is also a firmness in him. He is certainly stubborn." And the way he pressed her hand made Willow grunt in protest at the implication that she was worse. He chuckled. "Und he has a heart of gold," he added, and Willow fell asleep, dreaming of a red, white, and blue shield.

Willow gently pressed the joystick forwards, gasping in both surprise and delight as the chair hovering above the ground moved forwards. Howard laughed at her reaction, and she grinned in delight before pressing it forwards more firmly and gliding around the room, even doing a 360 degree turn.

Her Dad had made the chair, as promised, and today was the twenty second of June, the very day that the experiment would be made. Willow was also supposed to receive the special pills that Doctor Erskine had promised that would prolong her life and relative health for another year. According to him, it was a specially-created protein that marginally slowed the cancer-like cells that were taking over every single system in her body. By now, she was hovering dangerously close to the point where she faced the prospect of having to be fed by IV, her stomach and intestines unable to handle anything but gruel or whatever form of soup that rations and money could procure.

Over the past few days, Willow had cried herself to sleep, trying to let her mind and emotions come to grip with the fact that what she had thought was real was not and vice versa. It had been helping, and even though she was far from being relatively _okay_ with the whole issue - she wasn't even close to forgiving the Voice yet for basically kidnapping and then brainwashing her, though she had a hard time holding grudges and she knew it - she was certainly getting better and was able to function pretty normally and separate her dream life from this very real life.

Pain had become a constant now, what with her condition, and the feeling of her body deteriorating was uncomfortable but normal. It scared her, yes, but the thought that her task was far from over and trying to keep a cheerful front for those around her kept her spirits up and her mind off of the grim future looming ahead. It seemed to work, considering that whoever visited her, whether nurses, Doctor Erskine, her father, or random soldiers that she remembered from before, seemed to leave more heartened by her quips, sharp wit and sarcasm.

She had also been thinking about what to do about Tony, having come to the decision that it was he that was important, and had been compiling a scrapbook of sorts for him. She kept it a secret from her Dad, though, merely telling him that he would know in time. He left well enough alone and catered to her whims in the meantime, such as having photos of her taken and developed, and giving her paper when she wanted it. She drafted letters to him, and wrote little encouraging notes that she thought might help him in his life. Little notes reminding him of things like "Remember Dad loves you, he just doesn't know how to cope with feelings and works all the time to avoid it. Just remind him that you love him and talk about me to guilt trip him, okay?"

She was trying to figure out how to word the first, most important letter to him, telling him about herself (not the details of course, just general sibling info and about her life) since she knew Howard would probably hate talking about her once she was actually gone. She basically created a scrapbook to help him deal with his life, as rough as it would get. She wrote about PTSD, and how to show proper love, and how to take care of himself and his feelings. Not just "go to therapy," but more about how she understood and that she loved him, and that he'd be okay in time.

All in all, she had been busy in the past days, encouraging others with her bright hopefulness despite the fact that her eyes grew a tiny bit dimmer and her voice got a little more hoarse each day.

"Are you ready, Willow?" Howard asked as she came to a stop in front of him, and she nodded happily, ignoring the pains shooting through her side. "Great! Then let's go. I'll be right behind you," he said, and she turned her chair.

"Can you push me, Dad? I'm a little scared that I won't be able to see," she said quietly, and Howard nodded, albeit a little dejectedly. He grasped her chair and began to push the levitating chair down the hall, earning polite salutes and stares alike as they passed through the halls.

"Most of them have at least heard of you," Howard whispered. "There have been some ridiculous rumors going about about you being a living corpse, though, which I suppose will die out today," he added dryly, and despite herself Willow had to smile slightly.

"I don't think I'm _that_ attractive," she whispered back, and earned a short bark of laughter in reply.

"Don't be ridiculous, you're as pretty as the dancin' girls," he replied, and Willow rolled her milky eyes.

"Just because that line worked on someone else doesn't mean it'll flatter _me_ , Dad," she snorted, then coughed slightly, the sound rattling through her chest until she was sure someone could hear her ribs clattering like a skeleton's.

Howard ignored it, like he always did any mention of her illness, and merely went on, humming under his breath. They went out into the streets and were met by a black car, which Howard gently placed her into and buckled her up, putting the chair in next to her. He climbed into the front seat and they headed off, Howard talking to the driver while Willow looked out the window at 1943 Brooklyn. It was frankly amazing to her, to see all the shops and homes go by, the other cars she had never before seen, or at least had been conditioned to believe that she had not seen. Besides, she hadn't been out for a year and three months. Everything was a new novelty, even if the very skies seemed grey with the ash from the World War.

They finally arrived in a little but familiar bookshop, and Willow grimaced as she noticed the other black car parked by the curb. She wished she could say something, but bit her lip to stop herself and allowed her Dad to put her back in the chair and push her into the shop. A little old lady dressed in a floral print dress smiled at them, especially at her.

"The weather looks wonderful," she commented, and Willow's lips twitched as Howard replied.

"But I always take an umbrella with me," he grinned, and the lady let them through after discreetly - or what Willow guessed was supposed to be discreetly - pushing a button under her desk. They passed through the double bookshelves, and Willow sighed.

"But Dad, that's _not_ suspicious at all," she complained in a whisper, and Howard grunted.

"Well, it can't be helped. I just made the doors, honey, not the method," he sighed.

"But really? Weather? What do they say when it _is_ raining?" she asked pitifully, making Howard snort under his breath and lean forwards.

"I know, it makes me cringe," he confided, and grinned at her sigh.

"Hello there, Miss Stark," a gruff but friendly voice said from in front of them, and Willow looked up from her chair. Her half-blind eyes picked out vague details of the age-worn face looking back at her.

"H-hello," she said, voice rough.

"I hear you're here to see Howard set up the machinery and test it out," he said, and she nodded.

"Da said it's okay if I do," she replied somewhat hesitantly, and the familiar-looking man tipped his hat.

"Of course, missy. Pleased to have met you," he said, and walked away briskly. Howard bent over Willow's chair to whisper in her ear.

"That was Colonel Phillips. He's mean on the outside but a rather nice guy if you can get past his militaristic exterior," he confided, glad to see a small smile flit across his daughter's face.

"I can tell," she whispered back hoarsely, and heard him chuckle in reply. Inwardly, of course, she was grinning. Colonel Phillips, in the flesh! Okay, so he was a bit... _harsh_ , but hey, he was a pretty amazing person.

Howard wheeled her through the different and sterile-looking divisions, naming them off, before arriving in the large lab where scientists in white coats scurried about, masses of wiring, cable, and metal scattered around. Willow could just make out a platform in the middle with a green-painted chair in the center. Howard called for attention, and she realized that the white blobby scientists had stopped. She assumed they were facing her father.

"Hey everyone, this is my daughter Willow I told you about. I've gotten permission for her to be here, since she wanted to see the project. Doctor Erskine promised to give her the meds he made for her today, so he's supposed to come this afternoon. Now that introductions have been made, let's get back to it! Oh, and two of you come help me get her up on the platform, will you?" Howard added distractedly, and Willow saw that two blobs walked towards her.

Her chair jolted and then was set down a few grunts later, the repulsors disengaging. "Hello miss, pleasure to meet you. Your modifications for the chair and room were amazing," one male voice said quietly, and Willow's head turned towards the direction of the voice.

"Thank you, even if Dad did all the math," she answered heavily, then turned and wheeled towards the chair. She ran her hands carefully over it, a gentle smile spreading over her face in awe. A few scientists turned away, tears in their eyes at the sight of the withered girl's smile through half-blind eyes.

"It's even green, see?" Howard said softly, and she grated out a laugh that ended in a spasm of coughing.

"It was just a joke, Dad," she managed, and he chuckled.

"Well, I took it seriously," he replied, and she reached for his hand, which he immediately took.

"Thanks Dad," she grinned up at him. He pressed her hand and then leapt down the stairs, barking orders. The machine was slowly put together over the course of the day, while Willow sat and watched as well as she could. Occasionally Howard would push over closer to something, asking her opinion. She found with relief that her opinions were concise and scientifically correct in its principles, even if her math, to her chagrin, was horrendous.

"Ach, I see that my patient is doing vell today," Doctor Erskine came in, and Willow turned to him.

"Doctor?" she asked hesitantly, and he reached out to grasp her hand.

"Yes, Villow. I haf brought your medicine. Shall I take you to a room?" he asked, and she nodded. She felt and half-saw as he pushed her to another room where there was no one and no cameras. Then he came into better focus as he sat in front of her. "Here," he said, adjusting his glasses, and pressed two tablets into her hand. She peered at them.

"They're... white?" she asked, furrowing her eyebrows, and he chuckled.

"Did jou expect them to be green?" he asked, and she grumbled.

"One joke and I never hear the end..."

"Here, drink it vid this," Erskine said, ignoring her grousing, and she took the cool glass of water in her hand. Shakily raising it to her lips, she swallowed the pills as best she could, and Erskine took the glass before her hands could lose its grip. That was another thing too, her increasing trembling that betrayed her weakness. The bigger the object, the harder it was, though small things like her pen were just fine.

"What will it do?" she queried.

Erskine adjusted his glasses again. "Vell, theoretically it should be able to temporarily inhibit the growth of the cells in your body that are taking over the rest. It von't last long, though," he said, and she nodded.

"Okay," she replied quietly before coughing forcefully. Doctor Erskine rubbed her back until it subsided, and then grasped her hands.

"He vill come, Villow, do not worry," he murmured, and she nodded.

"It's your dream, Doctor," she whispered back, wanting somehow to comfort him in his last few hours. "He'll be amazing, I know it," she said with conviction, and earned a smile in reply. Her heart fell and rose at the same time, leaving a sinking feeling in her gut. If only she didn't care...

"He should be coming any moment," Howard muttered to Willow as he pushed her into the room where the now-finished machine stood proudly. He set her next to the chair on the platform, and went to arrange the other machineries.

Willow sat there quietly, thinking about the man she was soon to meet. What would it be like to see Steve in real life? To see him actually _become_ Captain America? With a sudden, swift smile that she hid, she decided to get a picture with him before and after the process. Maybe, she added to herself deviously, she could even get him to sign one picture with her, so she could add it to her scrapbook for Tony.

There was the sudden sound of doors above them opening, and silence fell on the busy room, causing Willow to snap out of her thoughts and crane her neck upwards to see just blobs. Then there were footsteps on metal, and the scientists turned back to their work. Willow would have squirmed with impatience, but she was too weak and instead bit her lips softly in frustration. Erskine placed a hand on her shoulder, and squeezed it carefully. Footsteps approached, and Erskine held out a hand to shake someone else's.

"Good morning," he said calmly, and a small pale hand met his. A flash of light made her wince, and she felt the Doctor turn his head. "Please, not now," he said sharply, and then turned back to the man. Willow could only make out the tan of the uniform and the outline of his face and general body, but it made her want to hum in sympathy. He was so _small_ , like she was. Skinny. Her heart kicked up a notch.

"Are you ready?" Erskine asked, and although she didn't hear an answer, she saw the blob move up and down as though nodding worriedly.

"Good. Before you take off your shirt, tie, and hat, I vant you to meet my ozer patient, Willow Stark. She's Tony Stark's daughter, and vas instrumental in creating this machine that vill make you into a super soldier. I haf been vorking to cure her, but there is no seeming remedy to her disease. She has been vaiting to meet you," he said, then turned to Willow. "I will get prepared," he murmured, and she nodded.

Erskine left, and Willow turned her face up to the short man. "Hello," she rasped, and the man shuffled awkwardly.

"Hello ma'am," he replied. Willow smiled, wanting to pinch his cheeks for being so _darn cute._ How was this cinnamon roll even possible?

"I'm only sixteen. I know I look older though," she said with a slight cough. "Can you please come closer?" she asked, and saw the man turn to someone behind him.

"It's fine," Peggy's voice said, and Willow was glad to hear her. She'd been introduced briefly to the Agent by Doctor Erskine, and took a liking to Agent Carter. How could she not, honestly, knowing what the woman had done and would do?

He shuffled closer, getting on his knees so that he was level with her chair. She slowly reached out, and managed to grasp his face gently with her shaking hands. Slowly, she ran her fingers over it, memorizing his face. She could see him better now, and noticed that his eyes were green. She smiled widely, feeling her pulse almost flutter with pure exhilaration. His eyes, even though they weren't turned blue yet by the serum, were just as babyish as she imagined, making her heart melt. Sheesh, this man shouldn't be legal.

"I'm glad to meet you, Mr. Rogers," she said softly with a full heart, and both saw and felt a smile on his face as his cheeks creased. She resisted with difficulty a squeal.

"Just Steve. And it's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Stark," he replied, and she nodded before letting him go.

"Can you please take a picture with me?" she asked whimsically, and he paused before nodding in slight surprise. He posed next to her with a slightly-nervous grin as she held his hand and smiled in the direction of the camera-man blob. A bright light went off, and she let go. "Thanks," she whispered, and he nodded wordlessly.

He stood and took off his hat, tie, and shirt, while Willow looked up to see more blobs milling about. Howard pushed her towards the edge of the platform but not completely off, and made sure she was facing the green chair which Steve now lay prostrate upon.

She heard quite a few minutes of chatter and preparation, then the microphone came on as the Doctor made his introduction and explanation. She waited with bated breath, closing her eyes and tensing. She was so nervous. Yeah, she knew it would be alright, but it didn't really help when the rest of the atmosphere could be cut with a butter knife. She opened her eyes and saw the chair moving, just as a sharp pain ran through her side.

"Steven? Can you hear me?"

There was a muffled reply, but the Doctor merely turned to her father. "We vill proceed," he said calmly, and Willow clutched the arms of her chair tightly, just as another shock of pain ran through her chest.

Tenseness filled the room, and Willow closed her eyes tightly. She would _not_ open them until it was over. Forget watching the process, she'd just imagine the movie scene. She heard her father calling out the percentage of the vita-rays, whimpering quietly in unheard pain as more sharp pains began running through her body. She wasn't sure if it was the fact that she was scared, or perhaps something was wrong, the meds weren't agreeing with her, or maybe it was even the chems in the room that were affecting her.

Screaming suddenly began sounding from the chair, and Willow gasped. Peggy was crying out while Erskine yelled for Steven, and hubbub arose while Willow grabbed her chest and began crying with pain, unnoticed by the others. She was half afraid for Steve, even though she _knew_ everything was going right.

"No! Don't! I can do this!" Steve's muffled voice sounded, and her father's voice finally frantically announced one hundred. Sparking noises sounded, and the machinery wound down in a bright burst of light as Howard opened the chair. Willow panted with pain and adrenaline, and she felt her chair being pushed forwards slightly.

"It's alright," her father murmured. "He's alright! Come and see him. We did it, Willow," he said excitedly, making her slowly open her eyes. Steve was hunched over, she saw, and definitely looked _bigger_. It was the Captain America she knew.

"How do you feel?" Peggy asked, and Willow grinned before grimacing.

"Doctor!" she cried feebly. "I - I think I-" She slumped forwards in her chair, and immediately felt Erskine at her side. Her father was clutching her hand.

"Willow?" he asked anxiously.

"Villow, look at me," the doctor said firmly. She tried to pick out his face, but everything was going darker and darker. "Her eyes are growing whiter," Erskine sounded panicked.

Just then, Willow felt another hand grasp hers. Through her failing vision, she managed to see blonde hair and blue-green eyes. "Thank you Willow. For helping me become this. You're a better warrior than I'll ever be," Steve said quietly, as though he knew that she was afraid for her life. She grabbed his hand, grateful for the living golden retriever and his sensitivity.

"Save America," she whispered. "I _believe_ in you, Steve," before coughing violently. Just then, chaos broke out as an explosion rocked through the room. Willow was knocked from her chair onto the floor as gunshots sounded. Screams and shouts arose, but Willow couldn't even sit up.

Hands suddenly grabbed her hands and helped her back into her chair. "Honey, are you alright?" Howard sounded frantic. She shook her head, and felt her hands being pressed. "Willow stay with me, stay with me..."

"Doctor..." her lips said weakly, and Howard groaned.

"Willow... he's gone..."

The words flashed through her with more pain than she had anticipated. He was dead? Already? Then convulsive pain ran through her body, and the last thing she heard was her own feeble attempts at screaming before the world went dark.


	4. Letters, Wolves, and Puppies

_Hi everyone, sorry I'm a bit late in updating. I have a lot of things going on, and I may be late updating this week as well. But I'll definitely have something in by next week!_

 _Thank you for all the favorites and follows. Please don't forget to drop a note if you have time and let me know what you like about it, it gives me inspiration!_

 _My thanks goes out to my lovely beta, Madcinder._

 _Please,_

 _Read,_

 _Review,_

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

"... She's not being responsive."

"She can't even hear us, Mr. Stark."

"But no one knows what's wrong!?"

"No sir, we don't. This is... unheard of. We don't know the problem or what's causing her shutdown."

"Will she live?"

"We believe so, sir, if she can just wake up. Her body is alright, we believe it's just her mind that's gone offline."

Willow heard the voices slowly register in her head, and she mulled on it for a moment. Oh. Right. Doctor Erskine had... The spy... And - Captain America! Steve Rogers! Was he okay!? Of course he was, she told herself sharply. Everything was alright. Now, she needed to wake up... Dad needed her. _Tony_ needed her. It was with some frustration that she tried to wake herself up, but found that she couldn't. Instead of panicking, she sat in the darkness of her mind and sulked. Cmon, she needed out! She had to _do_ things! Stuff and things. Things and stuffs.

"Willow, Willow darlin', can you hear me?" Howard's voice rang through her ears and rattled around in her skull. Yeah, Dad, she heard him loud and clear. She just couldn't answer and it was annoying!

"Her pulse has spiked. I believe she can hear you, sir," another voice said encouragingly.

"Hey Willow, I don't know what's wrong, but please don't panic. We're doing all we can, alright? Do you think you can have a visitor?" Her Dad's voice said again, and she struggled to answer, move, anything. She was stuck.

"Her pulse has slowed to normal," the voice informed. "She is calm."

"I'll take that as a yes, then," Howard said, and she felt her hand being pressed before fabric rustled and she guessed that he had moved away. There was a new voice in the echoey hallway, and then someone moved in and approached her bedside. Someone sat, and then apparently hesitated.

"You can speak to her, sir. She's fully aware of what's going on, just unable to respond. We can monitor her heart rate and see her 'responses' to your words," the voice she'd labeled as a doctor's filtered through her ears. She refused to call anyone but Erskine _her_ doctor.

"Thank you," the voice said politely and softly, and her ears practically pricked. _Steve_! Her mind shouted. _Steve, it's you!_

"I believe she is pleased to hear you," the doctor said, and Steve sighed.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Miss. I know he was... close to you, more than me, but I - I cared about him too. I tried to chase the guy, but he took a cyanide pill and died. But I made sure he didn't get any of the serum, I promise. I just wish I could've done more." There was a silence, and Willow felt a tear trickle down her cheek, wishing she could wipe it away. A moment later there was the feeling of someone brushing it away, and then the doctor giving a sharp intake of breath.

"Her fingers twitched. Please keep talking to her, sir Rogers, she seems to be reacting well to your presence," he said hurriedly, and Willow strained to hear Steve. Yes, she wanted him to stay, as long as he could. It was selfish, yeah, but hey, it was _Steve Rogers_ and where else or when else would she ever get an opportunity like this?

A hand touched hers, and her own hand twitched to close slightly over the bigger, more muscular hand. It pressed gently, like it was afraid of hurting her. "I just wanted to thank you for helping me. I know you were the one who helped Doctor Erskine develop the machine and actually fit it into the room, even though you were sick. Mr. Stark said that it was just as much your dream as his." There was another pause, and this time Willow felt her lips curl up, just the slightest. She was slowly regaining movement, to her relief. Pain was still prevalent, but it was draining away little by little to the familiar dull ache that she had grown used to.

"And thank you, most of all, for believing in me. I promise I'll do all I can to keep America safe, for you and the Doctor. I wish I could have known you better. I'm supposed to be flown out tomorrow, but I hope to keep in touch with you. Agent Carter said she'd help, too. I hope you get better," he sounded hopeful, and Willow could feel her head shift slightly towards him.

"Please wake up, Miss, Mr. Stark sounded really worried about you. I think you're the only person he really cares about. Besides, a lot of people sound sad that you're not well. You seem to have cheered people up around you," Steve went on, and Willow managed to crack her eyes open. Her vision was even fuzzier than before, but she could still see colors and blobs, which was better than full-on blindness.

"Willow," she rasped, and felt Steve startle a bit. Then she opened her eyes fully and smiled at him. "I know I look older than I am, but I'm just sixteen," she managed, and Steve put to her lips the glass of water the doctor handed him. She drank gratefully, only spilling a little. Then she pressed his hand. "You are America's dream, sir," she whispered, eyelids fluttering. "You're our hope. I would be glad-" She paused to drag in a deep breath. "Glad to communicate with you. I'd like to hear everything." A smile fluttered over her lips. "It would be the best thing in my last year," she added quietly.

Steve, she noticed, looked startled. "Your last year? You mean..." he trailed off with a tone of vague horror and sorrow.

"It's better than a life like this." She patted his hand weakly. "Besides, my Dad would rather die than have me live this way for too long. And I'm getting tired. But I would cherish hearing from you." She smiled as widely as she could, looking up at Steve through glazed eyes, trying to convey her admiration of him. She saw him look down bashfully and hid a giggle at his shyness. Ever polite, that man.

"I'll try to tell you everything. It's the least I can do, and besides, I'd like to know you better," he said honestly, and Willow felt like grinning. Oh, he would alright, if she had anything to say about it. She'd probably end up in the Avengers timeline sooner or later, to fix _something_ , even if it be Age of Ultron, so she had her bet that she would see him again.

"Would you please sign one picture of us?" she requested, then let out a grating cough that rattled her chest.

"I will," he promised, and she nodded weakly, subsiding into the cushions again.

"I'm sure you must be busy," she whispered.

"Thanks, but I'll be sure to visit you again when I can," he replied, and she nodded.

"Thank you, Ca-" she cut herself off with a cough. "Steve."

He pressed her hand one last time and stood to leave. "I'll see you later - Willow," he caught himself in time, and she managed to wave feebly as he left.

"Please rest, miss, you'll feel better if you do," the doctor spoke up, and she groaned.

"Doctor... Are the pills still available?" she asked, and the doctor nodded.

"Yes, miss. Doctor Erskine made a year's worth," he answered, and she felt a tear leak onto the pillow. She fell asleep weeping softly at the loss of one of the best and kindest men she had known in her short life.

* * *

 _Dear Tony,_

 _I know you don't know me, and I don't know you - yet. But you will, one day, I promise. Dad might not have told you about me, so just in case he didn't, I'll tell you here. And if he did, well at least you'll hear it from my point of view._

 _My name is Willow Stark, and I was sixteen when I died. At least, they tell me I'll die by the end of this year, and I'm sixteen now, so I think I will. But don't worry, I'm not scared. You'll see why later. And one day, you're gonna be older than me, if you aren't already. You may be wondering how I already know your name, if I wrote this when you weren't born yet, but don't worry, I'm not a witch or something. Like I said, you'll find out in time. I was bored while in the hospital, so I decided to make my future sibling a scrapbook. It will help you in life, I hope, and maybe give you a good reason to brag._

 _There are pictures in here, and a special autograph or two, if I can get more. Better keep 'em safe, they're pretty valuable. There are also special notes in here for you to read, and if one of them (or more) help you, then stick 'em somewhere where you'll see and it'll help. And look, I know Dad can be hard sometimes, but he's just not good at the parenting thing, okay? Give him some slack - a lot of slack. But if he's being an idiot, then tell him so and tell him that I wouldn't have been happy. Promise?_

 _I have some kind of sickness that the doctors have never seen. I'm guessing it's some form of cancer, but I can't be sure, since we don't have the right equipment here. War time, y'know, makes things hard to get. I was an expert in biology though, and history and English, just so you know. I'm not good at math and science, which is kinda surprising considering you and Dad. But oh well._

 _Oh and yeah, if you haven't guessed, I'm your half sister. My Mum died when I was born though, so I don't remember her. But Dad took care of me, as well as a nanny, so I turned out okay somehow I think (don't ask me how I really don't know)._

 _One day, though, we'll meet, and I hope you'll remember me by the pictures if you can. You're my brother, and I love you no matter what, mmkay? And I always will, and always have. I hope you'll like me too, at least. If it helps, pretend talking to me sometimes when you're bored or feeling bad, and even if I can't answer I'll hear it somehow. Always remember, Tony, that you are special and smart and other people can only be jealous of that. Be kind to them, okay? Maybe some of them have bad parents and no siblings either. I'll always love you, forever and ever._

 _Love, your sister, Willow Stark._

She wrote her name several different ways, liking the last way she did it, with a flourish in the _S_. It wasn't the best, but she decided that she liked the letter that way, and posted it in the first page of the scrapbook. She hoped, by the end of the year, that she'd have pictures of the Howling Commandos as well, and their autographs. Even Bucky's, which thought made her throat lump and tears threaten to well. Yes, she knew he'd appear later as someone different, but it still _hurt_ , and she knew she couldn't change it because it would be important later. Didn't mean it didn't hurt, though.

Willow shut the scrapbook and sighed, setting it down and leaning back, twiddling her fingers. Steve was due to come any minute, and it would be the last time she saw him for a _long_ time, she knew. If she was to last by the end of this year, she wouldn't even see Bucky's death, and barely the formation of the Howling Commandos. And she wouldn't see Steve's fall, either. She wished she could, if just to be there for Agent Carter. That woman was impressive, and Willow looked up to her.

"Hey there, Willow," Steve's voice brought her to the present as she looked up eagerly, eyes wide in an attempt to see him.

"Steve!" she cried softly, trying not to strain her voice. His face turned red, to her amusement that she managed to hide. "I'm glad you could come," she said gratefully, and he reached out to press her hand.

"I'm glad I could too," he answered genuinely with a small grin. "Do you feel any better?" he asked, and Willow nodded.

"I think maybe the stress and some of the chems in the air probably messed me up. I'll be okay," she answered reassuringly with a smile. Steve seemed to study her thoughtfully for a moment.

"It's funny, you know?" he suddenly said. "Everyone seems to encourage me even though I see them for the last time. My Father told me to chin up and take care of Mom, and when Mom died she told me to be strong and that she knew I'd do great things. When Bucky went off to join - he's been my best friend since childhood - he told me not to do anything stupid and that I'd find something good to do someday. And then Doctor Erskine-" There was a small catch in his voice that made Willow's throat constrict. "He told told me to stay good when he left," his voice was husky. "Now you... you ignore that you're worse off than some soldiers and tell me that you believe in me." He smiled at her faintly. "Thanks."

"You're gonna be great one day, I just know it," she answered simply. "And when you do, I'll be proud to say that I'd known you, at least, wherever I end up being," she said with a grin that threatened to give her away. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"I'm supposed to be going on a tour through America and England," he replied, voice sounding less happy. "It's supposed to boost morale and sell bonds," he said, and Willow could practically feel the disappointment in his tone.

She paused, frowning. "You're meant to do more than just that, but at least it's a start," she sighed, and looked towards the blank wall ahead of her cot. "Whatever happens, though, make sure you take your chances on something that matters. Where is your friend? Will you meet him?" she asked, curious to know what he thought.

"He's in the 107th, my father's old division. I don't know where they are," he replied reluctantly, and she hummed in sympathy.

"I'm sorry." She paused to oil her throat again, feeling it go dry and sand papery. "If you ever see him, tell him hi for me, and thanks for looking out for you." She smiled at him, wanting to see him smile. And he did, for a moment, to her secret delight.

"I'll try my best," he answered easily. "And no matter where I am, I'll try to send you as many letters as I can. Long ones," he promised, and her eyes lit up.

"Thanks! I'll be happy to know what's happening, and it'll be good to put in my scrapbook," she said contentedly.

"Sounds good," he said, and then paused to listen. "I'm sorry, Willow, looks like my time is up," he said apologetically, and Willow scrambled for words even as she shook her head. She might meet him, one more time, so she tried to think up something till next time.

"Find him," she suddenly said, and held on to his hand desperately. "Find him," and then she was sinking back, suddenly exhausted. "I'll see you later, Steve," she whispered, and he gently let go of her hand before brushing her hair and leaving.

Once he left, her hand dropped onto the sheets and met something crinkly and harder than fabric. She picked it up and realized it was the picture of her and Steve before the serum, his nervous smile obvious even though his hand was grasped readily in hers. She flipped it over, and read the neat script of his name on it, with a heart and her name.

She said nothing when Howard came in, merely holding onto his hand when he reached for it. Her sleep was deep and troubled, with nightmares of being alone, losing Erskine, and losing this reality as well floating through her mind.

* * *

The days and weeks passed, and Willow was moved with her Dad to another facility that was better and had more stuff for Stark to work with, including better equipment for her health. Her room was more comfortable, and she had more visitors as various nurses, doctors, soldiers, and scientists paused to say 'hello' sometimes and even randomly came to ask for something for her Dad. Some were curious, some knew her, and some were merely kind. Nevertheless, it was a pleasant change, and her health stayed quite steady for a time.

Howard managed to get her every scrap of news possible on Steve, and when he was finally announced as "Captain America," she felt like her face would crack from how widely she was grinning. The comics and movies came next, making her laugh at the cheesy graphics but cheer him on anyway. She also managed to keep track of his whereabouts thanks to both her Dad who strived to keep her happy and Agent Carter who sometimes ferried letters as well.

And of course, the letters themselves. They were never divulging important information unless Steve knew that Agent Carter herself was carrying it, and even then they were vague or encoded. Even so, they were the highlights of her days and were carefully answered and stowed in the scrapbook as they were received. He told her about what he felt, his happiness and his frustration, and that he still hadn't found Bucky. She encouraged him as best as she could, and always thanked him for serving America.

Howard sometimes tried to get her in his labs, where they would have a field day with the new devices, inventions, gadgets, and metals they found and were brought in frequently to be improved. She sometimes fiddled with one or made a suggestion, and was ridiculously excited when the vibranium came in one day. She insisted it be put away for some special purpose, and squirmed in her bed later in the evening as she imagined the day when Steve would get his shield.

All in all, the pills had done what Erskine had hoped, and she was faring just fine. It wasn't until October that things really started getting ugly for Steve, and Willow began to feel slightly anxious. She was failing faster, even with the pills, and barely had two months left. Howard was withdrawing more and more each time he saw her get worse, and the pain was getting to be unbearable at times. Her time was running out, she knew, and despite the fact that she knew that she'd be sent somewhere else to fix something else, it still hurt to think that she'd probably never see her Dad again, or Agent Carter, or the other people she'd come to know and care about.

Her time was running out, and she didn't remember the date that Cap actually _became_ Captain America. That it was the end of the year, she knew, but other than that it was all grey. That's why, when Agent Carter appeared in her bedroom with a _look_ on her face that Willow could feel more than see, she realized with a sickening jolt that she was really only half-prepared for this.

Not just for the event about to happen, but for _all_ of this. It started a rapid chain of thought that Willow had to muster every bit of will in her to pause just long enough for her to listen to what Peggy had to say, though she knew it all already.

"Willow, dear, I need a big favor from you," Peggy said surprisingly gently, though Willow knew by now that her sickly state brought the softer side out of most everyone who saw her. In response, she randomly reached out a hand and met Peggy's to grasp it.

"Considering all you do to keep our country safe, I should think I can do something in return," she answered lightly, smiling as though she had not a single care in the world.

She felt Peggy take a breath. "It's not an easy thing, darling, but I'm going to have to borrow your father for a dangerous mission that he might not come back from," she said slowly and carefully, and despite that Willow knew, she still appreciated the fact that the woman was trying her best in less-than-favorable circumstances.

She stayed silent for a moment, as long as she could. "Well, to be honest I'm used to that now, Agent Carter," she replied quietly, unable to completely hide the pain that was all-too-real for several reasons. "I've lost almost everyone that might have loved me as much as I cared for them, and I'm about to leave too. Besides," she tried to rally herself, "it's not like he doesn't compromise his existence in the lab anyway," she said in a faintly-forced tone, though it was enough for Peggy to pick up on. She received a grateful press of the hand a moment later.

"Thank you, Willow. If it makes it any easier to bear, he's flying Steve into enemy territory to save four hundred soldiers being held hostage," she said gently, and Willow sucked in a breath.

"What division?" she asked faintly, and could practically feel Peggy's interest spike.

"The 107th," she answered, and Willow closed her eyes.

"He's doing it," she murmured, and felt another squeeze, though there was no question. She allowed herself a smile. "I told him to make sure it was worth it. Bucky's worth it," she said contentedly, then stirred herself to look back in Peggy's direction. Her eyesight had gotten even worse, but she could still make out facial features if she got within a two-foot radius of their face. "Tell Dad I'll see him later, and I'll cover for him," she coughed, and felt Peggy's gaze sharpen.

She merely smiled. "It's not hard to connect dots, Agent," she laughed quietly, and then feebly managed to tap the side of her head. "My brain still serves me alright."

"Of course," and Peggy's voice held amusement. "I'll tell him that," she said, and then stood. "Rest well dear, and I'll try to bring your Dad back safe," she promised, and after Willow nodded, left.

Willow practically collapsed both physically and mentally, after that, as the sheer magnitude of what she was expected to do washed over her. She wasn't _half_ prepared for this. None of it. She was almost finished with the scrapbook, to help Tony, but she felt so _useless._ Yeah, she had been some of the inspiration behind the mechanics and stuff for Steve, but that would've happened without her anyway, probably. Granted, she hadn't been in the comics in her dream world, but the Voice might have left her part out for many reasons, obviously. She wanted _badly_ to be able to stay here to save Bucky, and that was the thought that had driven her to this realization.

There were things that she could and couldn't do, and there were so _many_ on both sides of the spectrum that it hurt her head. Bucky was one of the could _nots_. Mainly because _he_ was the sticking point of the entire Avengers Initiative. Without Bucky, there'd be no Cap in the first place, without Bucky there'd be no HYDRA shutdown in the future, and without Bucky there'd be no future Civil War to knit the Avengers together more closely afterwards. Maybe she could change _that_ , but Bucky _had_ to exist in the future and if she tried to save him now, it wouldn't work.

Bucky was the sticking point of the future - in essence, the entire Avengers low-key revolved around him. He was the catalyst for so many important things. Loki was another, but he was an entirely different case and one she filed under the _change_ mental cabinet.

So while she understood that yes, she had a vague purpose here now that she could see and yes, it was wise to take her out of the scene before she could try to foolishly save Bucky, what she _didn't_ understand is _why_ she had to be there in the first place. There were other ways she could have helped Tony, and if what the Voice said was true and she was created by it, then she was essentially it's daughter and was placed here as Stark's for a reason that she could not yet see. It didn't add up because there were too many missing pieces, and her head was sufficiently muddled by a large combination of things.

To sum it up: a lot of things hurt, a lot. The overload of both emotion and realization left her brain fried for a good hour before she could start picking up the pieces, and even then it was barely enough time to get her mind back in working order before she heard voices down the hall. Angry, familiar voices. If she was right, one of those voices belonged to the resident base's Commander, who was not quite all happy about Stark or Carter's frequent 'insubordination,' as he called it. She preferred 'stubbornness,' to be honest.

The voices arrived at her door, and out of the two she managed with her failing ears to pick out the tone of the doctor who was currently caring for her. Then the voices lowered and the door opened, though she gave no indication of hearing them enter, fiddling with her scrapbook. Someone approached, and sat on the chair, clearing his throat. She ignored the Commander, running a hand over the book.

"Miss Stark, if I may have a word," his voice was just barely civil, and she turned her head slightly in his direction to acknowledge his presence, smiling down at the cover of the book. Annoyance peaked in the room, to her perverse satisfaction, before he went on in a decidedly displeased voice. "I have reasons to believe that Agent Carter stopped by this room earlier. May I ask if she said anything to you?" he asked impatiently, and she tilted her head in clear thought for a moment, still stroking the book, before turning fully towards him.

"Well we had a chat, yeah," she replied with a dismissive shrug.

"And?" he goaded, voice terse.

She gave him a curious look, feigning ignorance. "She asked if I liked fondue. Do you?" she asked, and could practically feel the man oozing frustration as he tried to figure out if she meant something else. "It's a simple question, unless you've never tried fondue before," she said with a touch of condescension.

That prodded him alright. "I have, thank you, and it is not exactly my cup of coffee. Is there anything _relevant_ that she had to say?" he snapped, though she could detect a tone of weariness in his voice, and decided to have pity. The poor guy was only trying to do his job, after all, and handling a Stark was never easy.

"Depends on what you mean by relevant, but I don't think you mean news of Steve's recent whereabouts." She shrugged. Certainly it wasn't a lie, but certainly it wasn't the entire story, though he need not know that.

The Commander stood, obviously done with anything to do with Carters and Starks. "Thank you," he ground out, and left in a huff. The doctor came closer to check on her, and after reassuring him that she was fine - boy, for having a medical degree these doctors sure didn't know anything about picking up on mental distress - he left and she was left alone again to worry about Steve, Bucky, and basically the entire universe.

Willow began to wonder if leaving her alone to her thoughts was necessarily a good thing, even if she was a reclusive cancer patient. Then the pain suddenly began with a vengeance as meds wore off, and she was forced to dive for the pills beside her bed and swallow them with a ready glass of water.

She was getting heartily tired of being so sick. Hang the Voice.

* * *

It was a nerve-wracking wait, and Willow would forever remember it as the most helpless she'd felt since first waking up. She knew everything was alright, but just the inability to move and occupy herself with something other than the scrapbook was sheer torture. She'd managed to fall asleep, but as soon as the clock above her bed chimed six, she'd begged the Doctor to be let into the lab to tinker. He'd given in after she pulled some pretty dirty tricks like the puppy eyes and pout, but finally got her way with the repulsor chair and bee-lined straight for the tucked-away vibranium.

Unable to wait any longer and practically twitchy with the lack of something to occupy her overstimulated mind, she moved herself carefully over to the fabricating machines in the corner. They weren't as developed as they would be in the future, but they were enough for cutting metals into usable shapes and stuff, so she wasn't afraid to use them. Punching in the details and schematics she wanted, she placed the tube in the machine and allowed it to start, slowly ferrying herself away again and going to the table that held Howard's designs on several projects he apparently had going on. Idly scribbling a few notes, she almost missed the blaring sound of the machine finally making itself known to her for inspection of ordered goods.

The design was great, making use of the little vibranium they actually had and looking just like she knew it would. Taking it out and setting it aside under the table with other prototype metals, she went back to the designs and even began idly sketching suits. Maybe she'd be accused of being as much of a Cap fan as Phil Coulson, but honestly she didn't care. He was admirable, a great role model despite the whole 'I could do this all day' foolishness, and certainly going to be around for a while. He was a good man, and they were hard to come by.

She lost track of time so much with her distractions that when her Dad burst in with a surprised exclamation at seeing her, she actually started. Then, of course, she accepted his hug readily and plied him for details. Howard's dramatic recount of the flight gave her a good laugh, and the flourish with which he presented her with a plate of fondue bread had her coughing from choking back her laughter. He'd stayed behind a little more to find out the end results, hence his late return, and made her tear up when she heard of their triumph. In turn, she showed him what she'd done in his absence and earned another hug while they jumped on her ideas for a suit. She made a few suggestions but left it mostly to Howard, until she got too tired to stay up any longer without seriously damaging her health.

It wasn't until she was safely settled in bed, however, that Howard let out a slightly startled 'oh' and finally gave her the news she was really looking forwards to. "I almost forgot, Willow, but Steve will be coming back soon and there will be a party to celebrate their safe return. They'll probably be putting together a special-ops team too, most likely," he said, and she nodded faintly. "Of course, you'll be there, right?" he asked, and she smiled tiredly.

"If Doc will let me, but I'd love to," she answered wistfully, basically sealing the deal as far as Howard was concerned.

And it turned out to be so. The doctor had been leery, understandably so considering her rapidly failing health, but had given in as Willow subtly reminded him that at this point it wouldn't do much harm or good either way anyway. She promised to be as careful as she could, at any rate, and tried to decide on what to wear. Howard, in the end, had settled the issue by giving her a veritable cocoon of comfort, knowing her hermit ways.

So when he finally came to escort her the next evening, it was to see her dressed in a simple pair of comfy grey slacks matched with a predecessor to a modern hoodie, seated in the chair and swaddled in red quilts which she could retreat into at any time she wanted. She smiled at him as he began to guide her chair down the halls, past the lab, and towards the upper levels of the facility. As soon as they started getting close, Willow could hear the band top volume and the laughter of people, as well as the smell of food and alcohol alike. She wrinkled her nose at the alcohol, but merely threw the blankets over her head to make her feel a bit safer and drew them closer around herself.

When they entered the rooms where the party was swinging, Willow had to consciously remind herself that Cap and Bucky and the other future Howling Commandos were there to keep herself from begging to go back to her room. She hated loud, noisy crowds, and it didn't help that they were soldiers with alcohol, either. Thankfully, though, Howard wasn't dense enough to ignore that she had begun a steady retreat into the blankets and steered her towards a more secluded bar where there were not only fewer (but still quite a few) soldiers, but also where a blonde head distinctly towered above the rest. That stopped her retreat, but wasn't enough to draw her out, and they got closer just in time to hear Steve ask someone about "following him into the jaws of death."

Willow's ears perked up at that, drawing a bit out of her shelter enough to hear the rest of the immortal conversation between the two, though she was still unable to see Bucky. Then Steve half-turned, and saw Howard first due to her relatively short stature because of the chair. Willow realized for the first time since she'd seen Steve out of the chair how tall he actually was.

"Howard! Thanks for the ride, it really helped. Oh, Willow!"

If Willow was a tad smug to hear the genuine delight in Steve's tone to see her, then she could be forgiven. She peered out of her blankets and gave him a wobbly smile, which made him drop to his knees to scoot closer. She thanked the world again for the polite perfection that was Steve Rogers, and studied his face better now that she could see it.

"You look..." Steve hesitated, and Willow laughed slightly, ending in a cough again, which was getting more frequent.

"Not so good, I know. At the rate you're going though, I think _I'll_ have a higher survival rate than you, and that's saying something." She grinned, while he gave her an injured look.

"Willow, that wasn't fair," he whined, making her cough with laughter again before she tentatively reached out a hand to brush against his.

"I'm glad you did it, Steve," she whispered, knowing that he'd hear her with his enhanced hearing, and saw him give her a knowingly grateful look.

"Speaking of which, here's my best friend that I told you about, Willow." Steve turned to the man behind him, whose features she couldn't quite distinguish. "This is James Buchanan Barnes, also known as Bucky. Buck, this is Willow Stark. She's the one I told you about," he said, and Willow felt touched that he'd mentioned her. Steve's attention suddenly got caught by someone behind her, and judging by the look on his face that she could barely pick out, it was Peggy in a red dress. She passed over it (though not without a smug grin), and looked at Bucky who was stepping closer to her.

He knelt, and Willow hesitated before speaking. "Is - is it okay if I touch you?" she asked softly, then hastened to explain. "I - I can't really see well, so it helps," she blurted, and was cut off as hands gently met hers.

"Hey, it's alright baby doll," his voice washed over her, making Willow feel like she wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. It was just so... _Bucky._ Equal parts smooth and mischievous, edged and accented. "Steve told me about ya, and how he wrote ya all the time. Told me about what you told him, too. Gotta say, I thank you for it," he laughed, and Willow smiled before reaching out slowly to touch his face on either side.

His skin was still somehow smooth despite all the action he'd seen, and even though he looked a little worn, there was a glint in the blue eyes and a roguish tint to his grin under the messy brown hair. She let her hands glide over his face carefully, then pulled away just as slowly as she'd approached. "Thanks," she said simply. "And I think we both know that Steve needs to be taken care of. He's nothing but a big puppy," she added, and was satisfied to see him first stare and then bend over laughing at the description.

"I like you," he choked, and she felt a thrum of deep satisfaction.

"I'm glad it's mutual," she replied with a slightly sad undertone, and he paused to look at her for a moment with a certain amount of solemnity.

"Steve also told me about your illness, or what he knew. Said you weren't gonna make it," he said solemnly, and she allowed her lips to tilt up marginally.

"Might not last till December." She shrugged, and saw him give her a sharp glance.

"That bad?"

"I've had a while to get used to it," she said slightly uncomfortably, realizing that his look was one of concern at her flippancy. "Besides, it's more pain to stay alive than is frankly worth it."

His gaze softened again, and Willow felt like running away if she physically could. Not ten minutes and she was wanting to hug him and never let go.

"Well, we'll be here hopefully to cheer you up before then." He gave her a toothy grin. "Sides, you'll have to help me keep the puppy from leaping into danger." He glared at the distracted Steve as Willow managed a short laugh.

"Yea," she agreed, then looked at him long and hard for a minute. "Take care of him," she suddenly said, and earned an equal look.

"I will," and there was a deeply-rooted promise in the answer.

They watched Peggy and Steve for a moment, then Bucky turned to her with a roguish smirk. "Dance?" he asked sweetly, holding out his hand to her.

"Don't poke fun!" she retorted in mock-offense, sniffing. "I don't dance with men not my father or brothers," she scoffed, earning more cackling from him. She smiled, satisfied, and then insisted on a picture with both Bucky and Steve before she got too exhausted.

It was only after crying her heart out as quietly as she could that she finally managed to fall asleep later that night. As it was, the niggling feeling that it wasn't the last time she would see him was the only thing that marginally dried her tears.


	5. Best Friends Come From Rough Starts

_Hey guys, I'm back! Thanks for your patience and your dedication. I'm very pleasantly surprised to see how many people have been following this already despite the fact that I've barely even started. Thank you!_

 _Before we start though, I'd like to say something really quickly. Though I am very grateful that you like my works, I will politely but firmly ask you to please, do NOT leave a review just saying "update please!" If it's tacked on the end of a review detailing something else, like what they liked about the chapter, then I don't mind. But if the bulk of the review is about updating "even though I know real life gets in the way but please think of your poor readers" etc, don't even post it. Please. Fanfiction writers are dedicating what time they can for a hobby that gains absolutely nothing in return except for the satisfaction of other people enjoying their work. But we don't get that time back, or any monetary wages for it. We do this for a hobby, and real life does not "get in the way," it is the_ **priority** _. This is not a job, it is a hobby. So please, by all means leave a review telling the author what you liked about their chapter, or anything that stood out to you that you enjoyed. That is our bread and milk, our payment for our work. It's all we ask for, just one review in return for hours or weeks of work to give you one single chapter. But please be respectful and_ ** _do not_ **_only post about updating. We try to be as consistent as possible, I assure you. That doesn't mean we can._

 _That said, I will now step off the soapbox. I do appreciate every single one of you, and I hope you will continue to enjoy. Thanks as always to my amazing beta, Madcinder. I wouldn't be able to make these chapters as smooth as I do without her._

 _So, please,_

 _Read!_

 _Enjoy!_

 _Review!_

* * *

 _Tony..._

 _I've only got two months now, probably less. I've kinda been pushin' it, so I think I just shortened my death sentence. The pain is pretty bad now, but the only thing that keeps me going is Dad and Bucky and Steve, and pretty much the rest of the Howling Commandos._

 _You won't believe their characters. It just goes to show that Steve is just that good of a commander that they even stay together, much less work together to be a special-ops. Dum Dum Dugan took one look at me the first time we were introduced and immediately told me that I was one of them. Gabe Jones and Jacques Dernier are practically attached at the hip as best bro buddies, it's almost like they're somehow twins. Dernier apparently told me in French that I was gonna be a looker, which made me laugh so hard I think Jones got scared I was gonna die right then and there. Falsworth made me feel simultaneously flattered and disgusted. He's like a real Jack Harkness. That man would flirt with a tree, for heaven's sake! Jim Morita made me feel kinda safe. He's so quiet it's gratifying._

 _Hafta admit though, I like Bucky best. He's just... I don't know. He's great, though. Would you mind if we adopted both the big Golden Retriever and the big brown Wolf? Or am I not allowed to be shared?_

"Hey baby doll!" Bucky exclaimed with his usual charm as he came in the door with Dum Dum and plopped himself, carefully, beside her on the bed. Dum Dum used the chair instead. "Whatcha doing?"

She closed the scrapbook and smiled up at him. "Just a bit of writing," she replied vaguely, setting the pen and book on her other side and leaning into his side. He wrapped an arm around her and began to blab about this and that and another. Willow listened quietly and patiently, knowing that it was his way of blowing off steam or stress. Dum Dum looked at her and flashed a grin and wink, to which she smiled. Bucky finally subsided, and they sat in comfortable silence for a few moments.

"Where's the others?" she asked in a scratchy voice. Her voice would utterly go out, soon.

"They're off doing paperwork or being debriefed," Dum Dum was the one who answered, crossing his arms and leaning back until the chair creaked ominously.

"Steve's in the lab with Howard, looking over shields," Bucky added lazily, and Willow went into a coughing fit to hide her laughter as she realized what was probably going down right then. Bucky gave her the ever-ready glass, which she took readily.

She leaned back into his arm, suddenly trying to swallow past the lump in her throat as she tried to form words in her mind. "Bucky?" she suddenly asked, and felt him shift to look down at her. "Please be honest. What am I to you?" she asked, and then looked towards Dum Dum to include him as well.

Bucky didn't hesitate. "You're my baby doll. Our mascot," he declared staunchly, so that she had no doubt about it.

"You're a member of the Howling Commandos," Dum Dum rumbled, his blonde mustache bristling with his words.

She sat in silence for a moment before answering. "I won't be here much longer," she finally said, her voice flat. Bucky's arm tightened marginally.

"Don't talk like that, doll," he said, but she shook her head.

"Bucky, I love all of you so much it's not even funny, but I'm not gonna last much longer. I can't. It hurts," her voice wavered as tears filled her eyes despite herself. "I'm gonna miss you guys so much it hurts, but I don't want to stay here if it means being in this much pain. Please don't tell Steve," she begged, latching onto Bucky's hand. His left hand. "The next time you guys go on a mission, I might not be here when you get back, and I -" she swallowed heavily and fought back the coughs that threatened to ruin her throat. "I'm selfish but I can't say goodbye to all of you, and I can't bear to see Steve know. He... you're all my family but he's like that one baby brother," she admitted in a small voice, finally dissolving into wracking coughs until red started spotting the sheets.

Bucky held her upright and gave her water, not saying anything. Dum Dum looked positively mulish. She drank, sinking back into the pillows with a tight chest and raw throat. "Steve cares about you, Willow. He deserves a good bye," Bucky finally said, voice rough, and she _wished_ that she could tell him that it _wasn't_ the last time they'd meet. But even so, darn it, the tears just kept coming.

" _I_ can't, Bucky!" her voice was just barely there, now, and so cracked it was hard to tell if they even understood. "I just _can't_ ," she buried her head into his arm. "I shouldn't have even told you. You'll get distracted," she mourned her own foolishness, but suddenly found herself looking into Bucky's serious face.

"Willow, no. Don't do that," he said sternly. "You took care of Steve, and it's time we take care of you. Just.." he sighed. "Think about it, alright?"

"I have," she said, looking away bitterly. "He's... he was our dream," and she knew they knew who the 'our' referred to. "I can't," and there was nothing more said, though Bucky tucked her under his arm again in a stubborn gesture.

There was a longer silence. "How long?" Dum Dum finally asked, and Willow looked in his direction.

"Less than two months," she answered in a rasp.

"Steve should do a sketch," Dum Dum said.

Bucky perked up. "He should, that way we can remember you besides the odd picture here and there," he said in satisfaction. Willow just smiled.

"I wish I wasn't such a terrible sitter," she said in amusement.

"Oh hush, the white hair makes you distinctive," Bucky scoffed. She just closed her eyes, relaxing in his closeness.

"You getting tired, sugar?" Bucky cooed, and she smacked him without looking as he laughed and Dum Dum snorted.

"Don't stare and be a weirdo," she retorted as he snickered.

"But you're just so cute, honeybunches!" he teased, and she gave him a withering glare.

"I'm _not_ a -" and her voice decided to go out, making Bucky howl even harder as she was rendered unable to snark back. Dum Dum just shook his head. She crossed her arms grumpily, pouting.

"Awww, did the wittle kitty get mad?" Bucky purred, poking her cheek. She stuck out her lower lip just as Steve came in looking for Bucky and Dum Dum. He stood there just staring at a hysterically laughing Bucky and a sulking Willow before looking helplessly at Dum Dum, who just gave him a shrug and small grin.

"What-?" Steve barely started before Willow threw a tiny and silent fit, waving her arms and glaring holes at Bucky while pointing at Steve and then Bucky demandingly.

"I think she's trying to tell you to make Buck stop calling her 'honeybunches,'" Dum Dum dryly offered a thoroughly confused Steve. Willow huffed gratefully and fell back in her pillows, while Bucky wiped away tears.

"Buck, you shouldn't have made her yell so much that her voice went out," was Steve's plaintive scolding instead that made Willow groan and toss up her hands as Bucky made another wheeze of laughter.

"I didn't, Steve, it just went out," he finally managed as Willow whimpered and began a pretty disconcertingly good imitation of Steve's 'kicked puppy' look. Bucky took one look and his eyes widened in horror.

"Noooo, no Willow, that's just dirty!" he yelped, but she just turned up the waterworks. Bucky broke.

"Oh _fine_ , I'm sorry baby doll." He tucked her under his arm again as she grinned up at him sunnily with not a tear in sight. Steve patted her head fondly. "You'd think I'd be immune to that face by now," Bucky grumbled.

"You've only known her for a while," Steve pointed out with a frown, and the other three exchanged incredulous looks.

"Should I tell him?" Bucky whispered.

"Don't you dare," Dum Dum sounded horrified as Willow adamantly shook her head.

"I hid under your porch because I loved you," Willow managed to whisper pitifully as Bucky and Dum Dum began to shake with silent laughter, leaving Steve utterly confused.

"Tell me what?" he asked no one in particular, only earning more laughter.

"Tell who what?" Howard wandered in. "The painting's getting done, by the way," he added to Steve, and looked at his laughing daughter. "Laughter's the best medicine darlin'!" he added cheerfully, and Willow just smiled at him.

"Her voice went out," Bucky managed, and Howard shook his head.

"Shoulda known you'd laugh _too_ much." He mock-glared before looking at the others. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I've got something to tell Willow and she's lookin' tired. Might we see you folks later? Commander's calling too," he added, and Dum Dum nodded at Willow firmly before making his leave. Steve patted her head softly and smiled at her, and Willow grasped his hand for one more moment before letting it go, fighting tears.

"Be safe," she mouthed, and saw his blue-green eyes soften. He left, and Bucky was left. He held her hand for another moment, and then his intensely blue eyes met hers.

"See ya later, doll," he said, and it took every last fiber in her to keep from tearing up right then. Instead, she nodded jerkily.

"Love you, Bucky," she mouthed back, before letting go of his hand and looking away to hide the tears. She felt a hand on her hair before he, too, left.

Then Howard was by her side, and she managed to control herself after a moment of sniffling. She looked back towards him, eyes closed in exhaustion. After a moment, he spoke. "Just in case, huh?" he asked softly, and she nodded. It was the best explanation for the time being. He sighed.

"Hey, Steve brought back a piece of the weapons HYDRA had. I'm studying it, and I think there's a new element to be discovered from it. It might save you," he said hopefully, and Willow just didn't have the strength to argue, just looking at him to show attention. "It's unlike anything I've ever seen. It has a lot of energy, Willow, enough to maybe reverse the cells in your body," he went on, and Willow smiled faintly despite the hopelessness of Howard's dream.

Despite herself, her eyes began to drift closed. She was feeling sleepy from the emotional exertion and pain of the last hour. Listening to Howard's rambling on, she fell asleep peacefully, for once, and for last.

* * *

 **Well done, child.**

Willow woke up with a start, and the first thing she noticed was the lack of pain. It had been such a constant before, and now that there wasn't any it was almost startling. Secondly, she noticed that she was back in the grayness.

It took her a moment. Then the slight horror set in. "Did I-?"

There was a sorrowed silence. **Yes, dear one.**

She didn't even hate the Voice. It was just... "How is he?" for once, she could talk without pain.

 **Weeping.** Was the simple but utterly compassionate tone. Willow felt warm towards the Voice, just for a moment.

"Why was I sick?" she asked after a moment of private sorrow for her Dad. She would properly grieve later, but for the moment she was trying to make sense of some things. She refused to think of the reaction of the Commandos when they found out.

 **It was not a normal sickness.** Was the expected answer. **It was stage one of your transformation back towards what you really are.** The Voice said, and Willow realized that it made sense.

"So... like a mutation?" she asked slowly.

 **Not only an X-gene, but similar. You would most likely be considered one of the first mutants, besides Apocalypse. The first of your age, at any rate.**

She nodded slowly, tying to wrap her head around it. "I... I see. I think. But what did it change?" she asked in confusion.

 **The basics.**

"That was unhelpful," she said blandly, and earned a chuckle.

 **Your insolence is refreshing.** Was the amused answer that made her sigh. She flopped over and closed her eyes, curling into a ball and relishing the lack of pain.

"So, Father, where am I going now?" she queried, and almost felt like someone was gazing at her. "It's just a natural assumption that you're my Father since you said you created me, and I'm just guessing at the gender based on your voice," she answered its silent question.

 **You may call me what you like. Now, rest. There will be more ahead.**

"Such generic answers it's pitiful," she muttered under her breath, earning another tolerant chuckle. "Do I get a lullaby?" she asked, and was answered with a quiet song that rang through her very cells.

Before she could even think a good night, she was out like a light.

* * *

"Odin, she's just a child," a soft voice stressed, and Willow heard a growl in reply that she couldn't decipher. With a faint groan, she tried to stir and found that she was lying on something rather hard. Her eyelids opened stickily, and then she was trying to haul her aching body up. A soft hand helped her, and a moment later she found herself staring into gentle blue eyes like a calm lake on a cloudy day.

"Gentle now, child. You had quite a fall," the woman with the blue eyes said softly, and Willow felt confused.

"F-fall?" she asked groggily, wiping away the sleep from her eyes and looking back up. And promptly squeaked.

"You recognize us?" An intimidating man with white hair and a black eyepatch asked lowly, grasping a staff. Except, he wasn't a _man_ and that wasn't a _staff._

"W-who doesn't recognize the AllFather or Queen Frigga?" she replied in a high-pitched voice. "H-how did I get here?" Even if she knew full well.

"We were rather hoping you could tell us, dear," Frigga replied, and she shook her head.

"I... I remember being really sick. Father told me I was going away, and then... I thought I fell asleep." She shrugged and frowned, telling the truth as much as possible. Frigga studied her intently, as did Odin.

"There is no lie in her, Odin," she finally said, and Odin sighed.

"Do as you will with her," he replied wearily, and turned to stalk away. Willow relaxed when he was fully gone. She didn't like Odin. There was too much he did wrong, too much he could not be excused for.

"Come, little one. What is your name?" She took Frigga's proffered hand and stepped with bare feet onto the smooth tile.

"Willow, Queen Frigga," she replied quietly and somewhat awkwardly.

"Willow, then. Come, let me dress you more properly," Frigga fussed, and Willow realized that yeah, her hospital-like baggy clothes probably didn't cut it around here. Frigga ushered her into a room where servants bustled about, doing who knows what. "Bring me some clothes for a child, Vanamir!" she called to a servant, who dropped into a curtsey and scurried off.

"U-um... thank you," Willow tried.

"It is of no matter." Frigga waved it off. "Do you know where you come from?" she asked, and Willow frowned.

"Not exactly," she replied truthfully. "Father moved around a lot..." Which was true. From a certain point of view.

"In the meantime then, you shall stay here," the Queen decided in a tone that brooked no argument, before Vanamir came in again with an armful of rich fabrics. Then Willow was shoved into several different dresses of various sizes until they found one that was apparently the perfect size, letting her keep it on as Frigga ordered an entire wardrobe in that size to be made for her.

"Now come, I will show you to a room in which you may stay," Frigga said kindly, sweeping off as Willow followed after with a certain awkwardness in her walk, unused to wearing dresses. Frankly, she didn't like them. She didn't like looking _pretty_ in general, and wearing dresses made her uncomfortable. Didn't help that that was basically all she could wear in this society unless she was brave enough to be Sif, which she _wasn't._ No, most certainly not.

They arrived after countless twists and turns through what she knew to be the palace at a wing where several doors were placed widely spaced in one hall. There were five that Willow could count, and Frigga led her to one. "This will be your room while you are here, as it is the only one currently available. The door to your left is my son Loki's, and the one across from you is Thor's. The one at the far end of the hall is the library, which you may enter as you will, and the one that we have passed is another room that is empty. You will be escorted to dinner this evening." And then she turned and just waltzed away.

Willow stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. The Queen was gracious, but had her own duties, and Willow was utterly bewildered. She knew she'd been sent here for a reason, obviously, and she knew where she was, but _when_ was she? What if Frigga or Odin asked Heimdall if he knew where she came from? After a moment of useless and pointless questioning, she finally gave up and decided to go with the flow as before, reaching out to open the door and slip inside silently. The door closed behind her, and she stood there for a moment with her mouth open.

 _Odin's beard._ The room was huge, with a balcony straight in front of her and a bed to the far left, a walk-in closet next to the bed and a bathroom on her right side. In the center was a beautiful table and a couple of chairs, the entire room draped in velvet fabric and the floors made of tile and scattered with plush rugs. Willow decided that she was going to go barefoot for the rest of the day, no matter how odd. This place was beautiful. She walked over to the bed, fingering the curtains and stifling a giggle as she remembered Shakespeare in the Park.

After a while of gawking, she decided that she was going to make good use of her physical healthiness and go to the library. She was practically drooling at the thought of books, and walked towards the door to quietly slip back out and head for the door of the library. Chewing her lip, she silently opened it and went in, bare feet silent on the floors and automatically falling into an almost reverent silence as she looked around in sheer awe.

There were so _many_. Shelves and shelves of magnificent books, complete with the smell of leather and dust and ladders that reached up to the shelves against the very ceiling. Wandering in, she took a look at the titles on the shelves. For one horrific moment, she wondered if she wouldn't be able to read them because of some language barrier, then realized with a shock that the titles were in an strange alphabet but she could _still read it just fine._ She wondered if the Voice had given her Allspeak, then decided that she wouldn't question it and just be grateful that she could understand the language around here and read it. Whatever it was. However she could.

A title suddenly caught her eyes, and she picked it up with ginger fingers, knowing the probable worth of these tomes. More than she could possibly afford, at any rate. _Yggdrasil_ was the title of the one she held, and she wondered if she would find any information on the Magical Tree, feeling curiosity about the subject. Gently holding the book in careful hands, she began to wander around to find a good nook to curl up in.

"An interesting choice, though it is a good book," a smooth and heart-stoppingly familiar voice startled her, and she gasped before turning to see a certain dark-haired Prince looking at her from over the spine of a book.

She blew out a breath, heart racing for several reasons. "Thank you, though I wish you didn't have to scare me half to Niflheim to compliment me on it, even if I wouldn't mind meeting Hela," she laughed shakily, making sure the book wasn't damaged from her sudden, convulsive clutch of fear. The statement earned her a sharp look, which she had rather expected considering the fact that Hela was his daughter. Of course, she knew that it was the right timing to say that because a rather large wolf was curled up at Loki's feet, and she knew good and well that it could only be Fenrir.

"You have no need to needlessly flatter me, child," Loki snapped, and she stopped checking the book long enough to give him a long look.

"They say you are the master of lies. You should be able to tell that I'm not lying," she replied evenly, then looked at Fenrir under the table. "Master Fenrir, may I sit in this empty chair?" she asked politely, referring to the chair opposite of Loki's. Fenrir opened his eyes in surprise, then nodded. "Thank you," she said, and sat, keeping her feet away from the wolf and setting the book on the table.

"I heard your story," Loki finally said, tone unreadable.

She opened up the book, fascinated at the texture of the parchment. "And?" she asked mildly, running her fingers across the yellowed pages. Loki had magic, it was only an obvious guess that he had eavesdropped.

"A strange tale," he noted.

"It is," she agreed heartily. "One that I'd rather like to know," she sighed, turning a page.

Loki set the book down. "Even more interesting, your seeming unconcern," he said with a lazy smile, looking at her with _green_ eyes over the table.

She looked up and met his eyes square-on, a matching smile on her face. "Some memories do not deserve to be relived," she answered calmly, enjoying the metaphorical spar. Loki was good, too, considering that she didn't see one sign of discomfort from her statement, though she knew it must have raised ghosts for him.

"And no tears for family?" he went on, and Willow fought to keep her eyes blank.

"Can tears be shed when they have all been squeezed dry?" she answered, and saw the challenge glitter in his eyes with delight.

"You tell me, if glassy eyes are your reply," he drawled, and she knew that he was somewhat right.

"Drowning sorrows in a false reality is easier than bringing up the root of a problem," she said softly, and saw a more wary light creep into his eyes.

"You would know," the reply was obviously sarcastic.

"Imagine dreaming up an entirely different life while you were unconscious for one year in reality," she replied, trying to spark interest. It did.

"Is such a thing possible?" he raised an eyebrow at her.

"Do you mean to tell me that one of the most intelligent people on Asgard does not know?" she asked blithely, thoroughly enjoying the offense on his face.

"There are certain things that cannot be done," he replied somewhat condescendingly.

"Ah, but who said I was one of you?" and that's where she had him, and she knew that he knew it. He gazed at her.

"You play a dangerous game," he said quietly.

"Is it dangerous?" She tilted her head at him.

"I am the Prince," he warned, and she pursed her lips.

"I don't believe I have once forgotten that in our conversation," she replied mildly.

"Then tell me," he demanded, hands folded on the table top as he studied her with half-lidded eyes.

"It is the reason I search for answers." She motioned around to the whole of the library. "Yggdrasil is the root of Magic. I have been dreaming of the impossible for a year while I was ill. Then I wake up on Asgard with no memory as to how I could have gotten here. You may draw your own conclusions." And with that, she picked up the book and promptly ignored him.

A hand reached out and pushed the book flat again, earning a raised eyebrow. "You are not an Aesir. Yet you are not anything I have ever felt with Magic," he said curiously, and that alone was enough to send bells off in her head. "Tell me, how do you plan to search for something that does not exist?"

She looked down at the book she had chosen. "Perhaps," she answered quietly, "perhaps from someone or something that will not judge me for whoever or whatever I turn out to be," she said, then turned the page to a drawing of Yggdrasil. "He is the source of magic. Perhaps, he knows who and what I am, and the answers to all my questions. Perhaps, he will not judge me for being something that no one else knows."

There was a silence. "You are an odd creature," Loki finally said, and tilted her chin up. "And you know more than you reveal. Tell me about yourself," he said, and leaned back comfortably.

"And if I don't want to?" Willow tested somewhat slyly.

"I will set Fenrir on you," was the easy answer. Willow stuck out her lip.

"Master Fenrir, you wouldn't attack a defenseless little girl, would you?" she asked plaintively, and received a slight growl that sounded negative. "See?" She gave Loki a palms-up expression.

Loki scoffed. "Tell," he demanded again, and she gave in with a sigh.

"Oh, very well," she grumbled, and then gave him a coy glance. "What do I get in return?"

He gave her a measuring look, and Willow decided that she had just gone up a peg or two in his estimation.

"What do you wish for?" was the casual answer.

She eyed him carefully. "A friend," she replied. "A best friend."

It was his turn to stare at her like she was deranged. "You would ask a Prince to be your friend." There was suspicion in his eyebrows if it wasn't in his voice.

"No, I'm asking _Loki_ to be my best friend," she replied curtly. "I've no use for political favor because I am no one and nothing. A best friend of someone I consider intelligent would be far better," and she looked down at Fenrir. "And okay, maybe I kinda want to get cuddling privileges with Fenrir," she admitted, and grey-green eyes went back to staring at her. Fenrir shifted slightly, making her feet sink into his fur and initiating a groan of comfort. "Warm," she sighed in relief.

"Have you no shoes, foolish child?" Loki sounded annoyed, though she noted that he said nothing about her request.

"Nope," she answered. "The gracious Queen didn't mention any." She shrugged and leaned her head in her hands. "My name is Willow, in case you were never going to ask," she added dryly.

"I know your name, Sapling." Loki smirked at her.

"If King Odin is AllFather, does that mean Queen Frigga would be the AllMother?" she asked, shifting her eyes to stare at his green ones. They were pretty, she reflected absently.

"I have often wondered myself," Loki admitted, seeming to relax marginally in her presence.

"You mean you haven't asked? Then I'll do it if I see her again." Willow nodded in determination.

"You are avoiding my question." Loki sent her a sharp look, and she stuck out her tongue at him childishly, making his eyebrow tilt.

"You're avoiding mine, it's only tit for tat, master of mischief," she replied smartly, her toes gently kneading Fenrir's side. Willow wondered for a moment if she wasn't dreaming _again_ because _really_? She was talking with Loki, the master of tricks, magic, and lies? She asked to be his _friend_? His _best_ friend? Was she _mad_? Then again, the answer to that particular question was obvious. She was a Stark, of _course_ she was mad.

He waved his hand dismissively. "You may think of me as a friend if you wish. It will not last long," he scoffed.

"Why not?" She tilted her head at him in a bird like fashion.

"Because no one is my friend," was the annoyed answer.

"When then I'm the lucky first," she said decisively, and leaned back. "As for me; what more is there to say? I went through the common education of my world, had decided to become a loremaster, got sick, and somehow ended up here." She shrugged. "You already heard the details I remember."

"Lies." Loki's eyes narrowed at her.

"No, just selective truth," she replied thoughtfully. "It is the truth, just missing details and open for interpretation. I'm quite sure you've used it sometime before." She rolled her eyes. Fenrir, under the table, suddenly let out a sigh and shifted even further into her massaging toes.

"You seem to know quite a bit about me, little Sapling," Loki sounded faintly amused and partially curious.

"A book I once read, called the _Eddas_. Probably half full of untruths, but there are some things that can be easily deduced from just looking at you - Master Fenrir and subsequently the rest of your children included." She nodded, smiling down at said Wolf. "Isn't that right, Fen?" she asked cheerfully, and received a contented growl in reply.

"Bribery," Loki accused, but it was said teasingly.

"Well I never said I was perfect." She grinned back. "Perhaps as my best friend you might be able to help me with that." She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"You have chosen the wrong friend, then," he deadpanned, and she full-on smirked.

"Oh, did I? I chose a friend who can and likes to read and will subsequently share my interests, a friend who has a sense of somewhat questionable humor like me, a friend who will be able to protect me with his _incredible_ magic skills which I wish I could do, and besides all that, I never specifically stated which end of the perfect scale I was talking about, hmm?" She ticked them off on her fingers and looked back at him through half-lidded eyes and an innocent air.

Loki studied her carefully. "I think, perhaps, we may be able to come to an agreement," he said at last, and she leaped up with a full grin.

"Best friends it is, then!" she squealed, diving under the table to wrap her arms around Fenrir. "Can you believe it Fen, I get a best friend who's a warrior that uses _magic_!" she cheered, while the wolf let out a startled yelp.

"You speak as though it is a privilege," Loki sounded wondering, and Willow stopped short, peeking up at him from under the table.

"I'm not seeing why it's _not_ ," she replied in an equally confused tone.

"Aesir do not prefer to use magic in battle. It is not befitting for a warrior of Asgard, seen as weak," he said flatly, obviously parroting an old lesson, and she scoffed.

"Well then your daughter must be attractive, if they'll so easily go to see her," she shrugged. "I mean, you get to decimate an entire flank of an army and never earn a scratch! How impressive is that?" she asked, then proceeded to tug Fenrir's ears. "Fen, come out from under the table!" she whined. "I wanna stretch out!"

Fenrir sighed. "You are demanding," he spoke for the first time, and Willow took it in stride although she felt smug that she'd guessed right as far as his ability to speak.

"Call me what you like, but I'll still use you as a blanket and pillow combined," she replied teasingly, dragging him out and grabbing the book to comfortably lay against his side and begin to read.

"I'm hungry," Fenrir complained, cautiously nosing her arm and mouthing it with his teeth. Despite the potential danger in that action, Willow just looked at him.

"You had to mention it? Now I can't ignore my own cravings," she sulked instead, and was backed up by a suspicious growl from her stomach. "What do you usually eat, Fen?" she asked, standing up and tucking the book under her arm. "Loki-doki, will you come with us?" she asked, ignoring the positively offended look shot her way.

"Do _not_ call me by that atrocity, and I will go with you because no one besides Tyr will feed him," he said in a low growl, standing to his feet so that he towered over her.

"Well I'll feed him!" she volunteered. "Let's go, LokLokes!" she exclaimed, then turned to Fenrir. "Can I have a ride?" she wheedled, and Fenrir heaved himself to his feet. "Sheesh you're tall," she remarked, staring up at his head a full head over hers.

"I eat meat, and yes, you may take a ride if you wish," Fenrir replied in what was seemingly a casual tone, if Willow hadn't caught the sharp look Loki sent his son's way.

"Yay!" she cheered, carefully clambering on top of Fenrir and grasping the scruff on his neck in order to balance herself precariously. Loki looked down at her with an inscrutable expression on his face, and she looked back up at him.

"I know you have no reason to trust me, but gimme a chance, yea?" she asked softly, smiling at him while stroking Fenrir's ears. Loki stared a moment longer before his green eyes softened marginally.

"Come, we shall go," he said, and led the way as Fenrir trotted after. They stopped only to let her drop off her book in her room. Willow chatted aimlessly along the way to the kitchens, earning occasional growling laughter from Fenrir at her hilarious observations and bantering with Loki which he obviously enjoyed. Willow had no idea how close they were to the events of the first Thor movie, but she did know that they weren't there yet because of the presence of Fenrir still. Nevertheless, even if she hadn't been sure, Loki's yet-open personality was enough to convince her.

Guards and servants alike gave her double-looks as they passed through the hallways, but she ignored them and the fact that she knew gossip would rage through the halls by tomorrow. Let them speculate, she'd still be friends with Loki till the end of the line. She knew what he'd done and was yet to do, but it didn't bother her. The worst mischief he'd done yet was the whole ordeal with Sif's hair.

They finally arrived in the kitchens, and Willow didn't even bother to hide her awe and delight, to Fenrir and Loki's obvious amusement. There were countless shelves with countless items of food and long lines of cooks and pots and pans and steaming bowls of things that smelled so tantalizing. Her stomach growled again.

"I'm hungry!" she whimpered, tugging at Loki's green tunic pleadingly as she looked around with wide eyes at the myriads of foods.

"And what will you give me in return?" Loki asked in typical mischief, green eyes flashing wickedly.

"Fenrir, I'm hungry," she shifted her pleading as the cooks gave her askance glances and eyed said Wolf warily.

"Then go find something to eat," he grumbled back, ear twitching. She sulked.

"I still want something," Loki taunted, standing with his arms crossed. She gave him a glare, then sighed.

"A hug?" she offered. He practically tried to burn a hole in her skull. "No? Well I thought that was enviable," she huffed, and then stuck out her tongue in thought. "Well I don't have anything to give," she whined.

"Then I will make my demand later," Loki decided, and Willow suddenly grabbed his shirt hem before he could leave.

"No wait! I have something, but I have to give it to you later," she said, and he gave her a considering look before nodding and beginning to politely ask the cooks for this that and the other. Meanwhile, Willow noticed a pile of raw meat on a separate shelf that was above her head, and nudged Fenrir.

"Is that yours?" she asked, and he nodded wordlessly. She slipped down from her seat and trotted over to a bucket of clean water, washing her hands before heading for the shelf. Another large platter was set on the floor, and she stood on her tiptoes and began to pull the chunks of meat down, setting them quietly on the platter. It wasn't exactly appealing, but Fenrir needed to eat and she knew from lore that no one else but Loki and Tyr dared to feed him. Since Loki was getting her food, it was only fair that she get Fenrir's as well. She managed to get all of the meat somehow and washed her hands again, picking up the platter and staggering over to a corner by the door, setting it down with a huff of air.

"Here, Fen," she said softly, and he shuffled over, plopping himself down and beginning to contentedly gnaw at the food. She petted his fur gently, wrinkling her nose at its rough and knotted texture. "I'm going to get a brush later," she informed him. He said nothing and merely growled, his tail flopping into her lap. Loki came up and stared down at her.

"Are you going to eat down there?" he asked, and she reached up expectantly.

"Yea," she replied bluntly and took the plate, eating hungrily but neatly, not wanting to seem uncultured. "Everything's better with friends," she added, and was somewhat surprised when Loki sat next to her. They ate together in silence, mutually ignoring the stares they were getting from the cooks, especially Willow. The food was little but filling, and Willow found that she could only eat half the plate. Fenrir finished after her and looked at her plate.

"Why are you not eating?" he rumbled, and she patted his head.

"I can't eat as much as you, Fen," she replied lightly.

"That is hardly enough to fill a babe," Loki said in an unimpressed tone, and Willow shot him a look. He snapped his mouth shut and went back to eating, remembering that she wasn't exactly Aesir.

"What are we gonna do next?" she asked, propping her head on her knee and petting Fenrir. The Wolf seemed to lean into her touch, and Willow realized that he probably never got treated like she was treating him. Like a friend. Too many feared him.

"I will go back to reading after you have paid your debt," Loki drawled, and she stuck out her lower lip.

"Fine then, I'll take Fen to my room and brush him," she huffed.

"I'll be reading in my chambers," Loki said casually, finishing his plate, and Willow fought a sly grin at the subtle invitation.

"Then we'll see you there!" she exclaimed, throwing herself over Fenrir's back. "C'mon Fen, we'll go get the brush!" she urged, and Fenrir lazily stood to his feet as though she were nothing but a burr, trotting down the hall back towards the royal wing. Willow crowed in delight as they went, urging Fenrir to go faster.

He finally loped into her room, stopping next to a small vanity for her to pick up a brush. Then he made his way leisurely to Loki's room, where they found him curled up in a window seat and reading. Willow was shaken off of Fenrir's back onto the carpet with an 'oomph,' while the Wolf plopped himself next to her and let out a huff, closing his eyes.

Willow began to comb through the clean but matted fur, feeling it slowly become silky smooth under her fingers. "Loki?" she suddenly asked, and felt his eyes flick to her for a moment, though he didn't answer. "What will I do at dinner? I don't think the AllFather likes me very much," she said uncomfortably, her brushing slowing down.

"As long as you are under my protection and the Queen's, you shall be safe - although mine comes at a price," Loki replied.

"Friendship can't be bought, LokLokes," she scolded, then huffed. "But I'll give you an idea for a practical prank if you want," she added off-handedly. That gained interest.

"Oh?" and his voice was as smooth as butter.

"There's a particular prank I remember called the cup prank," Willow replied slowly, pursing her lip. "Takes a lot of effort though... Nah, probably not." She shrugged and went on brushing Fenrir's fur. He growled, flicking his ears and leaning into the brush.

There was an antsy silence. Then finally, "Well?"

Willow grinned at him, and earned a scathing glare. "No need to get riled," she snickered. "Fine, I'll tell you."

Loki actually left his book to join her in preparing the prank. His magic came in handy for sure.

* * *

Willow was dressed in a completely different gown for dinner. According to Loki - and she'd made him promise that he wasn't playing a trick on her - the dress she was wearing was a proper evening dress. So, trusting him, she wore it and sidled along between Fenrir and Loki to the dinner hall. When they arrived, she was relieved to see other ladies wearing the same type of dress as her but also felt like she wanted to run away as fast as she could. She didn't _like_ dealing with people she didn't know.

Inching closer to Loki, she grabbed his sleeve. He glanced down at her, but otherwise didn't say or do anything, allowing her to hold his sleeve. For once, she was glad that she was of average human height and therefore only came up to his chest. Fenrir had almost visibly grown (okay it was just a centimeter but still!) since she first laid eyes on him, and he could easily hide her behind his bulk.

"What is wrong with you?" Loki's voice was almost directly in her ear, and she startled slightly before realizing it was probably ventriloquism since he was looking straight ahead and heading for the head of the table.

"I'm not good with crowds," she whispered back in a frightened tone, and earned another odd look. Willow realized how odd that must sound to him, a royal and an Aesir, in a culture where women were expected to be dressed immaculately and be irreproachable in public. To be a woman in the public eye was to be envied, and hearing of someone who didn't like being around crowds or interacting must seem strange indeed to him.

Loki led her to where Frigga and Odin were sitting at the head of the table, and another familiar blonde-haired, blue-eyed muscly guy sat next to them. Willow only clutched Loki's sleeve tighter at the sight of the warrior, not really wanting to be a victim of his hugs or ego before he was sufficiently humbled. Frigga stood and gave them a warm smile, while Fenrir prowled away into a more distant corner. Willow took note so she could go join him later. As soon as possible. So she didn't have to be disturbed.

"Welcome, Loki, Willow, child. I am glad to see that you are well," she said, and beckoned for them to approach. Loki ignored Willow and gave Frigga the warmest smile she'd seen from him yet, merely inclining his head towards Odin. Then he detached himself from Willow and stood behind his chair as Thor began to move around the table to their side.

"Thank you for taking care of me, Queen Frigga," she said quietly, dropping a brief curtsey as well as she knew how. Considering the amused smile she got, it was acceptable enough.

"I see you have decided to follow my son?" she asked, while Odin surveyed her with his one good eye.

"A-ah, I believe it is more appropriate to say that I have... erm... accosted the Prince with my sudden declarations of friendship," she replied with an awkward laugh. Frigga laughed quietly.

"Very good, child. This is my son, Thor. Go sit, now, we shall begin," Frigga introduced a widely grinning Thor and motioned towards the chair next to Loki, which he had pulled out for her and was waiting with an impassive face.

Making a quick and slightly terrified curtsey towards Thor, Willow darted over to Loki just as Thor took a step forwards. "It is a pleasure to meet you, lady Willow!" he boomed, holding out his hand. Although she felt uncomfortable at the added attention she was garnering from others around them, she allowed Thor to bend over her hand, though she retrieved it as quickly as was politely possible.

"And my honor to meet you, Prince Thor," she replied quietly.

"From whence do you hail, my lady?" Thor went on to ask with a too-wide grin, and Willow had the distinct impression that Thor was probably _flirting_ with her. She knew that she was technically of the 'legal' age in Asgard, since they followed medieval custom, but that didn't mean she was happy about it, though she knew it was a compliment. Poor Thor though, asking the wrong question.

"I - I don't know," she answered faintly, and was shrinking backwards just as a hand landed on her lower back. It faintly pressed against her side, discreetly guiding her behind Loki.

"Perhaps the further pleasantries can be dispensed _after_ the meal has ended, brother? I am sure that Willow is hungry," Loki said with an edged smile, and the oblivious Thor agreed heartily before bounding back to his chair. Loki pushed her chair in as she sat, and she breathed in slight relief. It wasn't that she didn't like Thor, because she did, but this was not the Thor she knew from the Avengers time - the _better_ Thor, and his presence was so _stifling_. Not in a bad way, but in a way she just wasn't used to.

"Thank you," she whispered to Loki, and earned a cool look and tiny nod in reply.

The meal commenced when the first platter came out, and Willow noticed that she was sitting next to a lady with dark hair and a rather stern demeanor. Across from her was a blonde haired, blonde bearded man with blue eyes that caught her gaze and winked flirtatiously, making her nearly choke with laughter. The man next to the Flirt was large and had a ginger curly beard and hair, with a rather large paunch and matching appetite. The conclusion was rather obvious, and glancing next to the woman beside her at the dark-haired, solemn man confirmed her suspicion that she was looking at the Warriors Three and Sif.

She looked back at Fandral the Flirt in time to catch another wink, but instead of blushing as he obviously expected, rolled her eyes with a wicked smirk. She earned a stare for that, and wiped her face clean to avoid suspicion from others, eating calmly and neatly much like Loki to her right. Fandral reminded her rather painfully of Dernier and Falsworth, and she concentrated on her plate to keep the burning in the back of her eyes from spilling over. She was predictably the first to finish her meal, even though she ate as slowly as she could and as much as she thought was wise. To play for time so that Fenrir could finish his meal and she could join him, she picked up her goblet of grape juice (thank the Norns it wasn't wine or something alcoholic) with both hands, feeling comically small in her large surroundings. When she drank from the deep cup, slightly kicking her legs, she felt as though she were a dwarf sitting at Beorn's table.

"Why do you eat so little, young one?" Sif's voice beside her made her start slightly and turn to the warrior woman, to meet a curious and slightly concerned gaze.

She smiled nervously and glanced aside at Loki, who had an impassive face. "I - err-" she stammered, "I'm actually not - not Aesir. I'm a victim of unusual circumstances that brought me here to Asgard, and Queen Frigga has been so kind as to keep me here until I can find out a more p-permanent solution," she managed. That got attention from Fandral and Hogun as well.

"What happened?" Fandral asked, intrigued.

"I'm not sure," she answered truthfully, looking down into her cup. "I was very ill and fell asleep, and when I woke up the Queen told me that I had apparently fallen from the sky," she admitted, and took another ginger sip.

"Well, however the circumstance and wherever you hail from, it is an honor to have you here, oh lady of the trees," Fandral said with a flourish of his hand.

"Ignore him, little one," Sif scoffed. "Did the Prince Loki create the golden lock in your hair?" she asked with a slight glare in Loki's way, who raised an eyebrow.

Willow allowed a short laugh, startled. "No, lady Sif, he did not... It has been there since I arrived," she hazarded a guess. Probably since the Voice had said that she had undergone phase one of changes, that was one of the effects, like Pietro's hair.

"You have heard of us, then?" Fandral preened, and Willow's eyebrow twitched.

"I have heard many things, sir, and more than enough about you, oh renowned chaser of skirts and sports," she said blandly, and heard a distinct choke from Loki. Sif brought her cup hastily to her mouth as Fandral stared at her agape with the most betrayed look on his face. "Have I not flattered you, Sir Fandral the ever _young_ and experienced?" She took a casual sip of the cup, eyes half-lidded as she watched him splutter and turn red. Sif was shaking slightly, while Loki was smirking widely. Hogun had on his default poker face, Volstagg was stuffing himself, and Thor was talking with Odin, so she didn't know what they thought of her base slander.

"Dear graceful lady, would you take such delight in causing me such sorrow?" Fandral asked, aghast.

"Your wonderfully blue eyes filled with such bitter tears are a fine wine to fill the golden cup of your beard, Warrior of the shattered heart," she answered smoothly, eyeing Fenrir and deciding that it was about time to abort mission and go dive for the safety of the wolfish corner. Sif by this time was outright laughing, while Loki's smirk had grown feral and his green eyes observed her with mischief and pride.

"Will the harsh yet fair lady save one dance with me, to assuage my injured manhood?" Fandral begged, and Willow pursed her lips.

"Having me on your arm would be more of a damage than an assuagement, dear sir, as I am afraid that I do not dance and will undoubtedly tread upon your tender feet." She delivered her last blow and set her cup down, pushing her chair back and standing. "If you will excuse me, I will go see my friend..." She bobbed her head and promptly fled to Fenrir's corner, sitting beside him and huddling into a patch of darkness while making sure that the dress covered her ankles. Norns forbid her ankles be bared in public, she thought wryly while looking down at her bare feet. She knew that quite a few were looking at her with a mixture of expressions: baffled curiosity, bewilderment, and some outright suspicion, but ignored it as she pet Fenrir's ears.

"You'll keep me safe from awkward conversations right, Fen?" she murmured. "Loki doesn't like helping me."

"What makes you want to avoid the crowd?" Fenrir rumbled in reply, just as quietly.

"I don't like dealing with people I don't know, even though I can. I always feel jittery in situations like this," she whispered back with a slight shudder of horror. "Besides, how am I supposed to deal with royalty and ambassadors and people of court when I've never grown up around them?"

"Surely their company is better than mine," Fenrir said, and she shot him a look.

"Maybe to others, but not to me," she replied sharply. "You're my friend, Fen, and I'd rather talk to you than a bunch of air-headed court gossipers," she scoffed. "Besides, you're a great big giant strong Wolf! Who wouldn't find you amazing?" she asked genuinely. Fenrir replied with a nuzzle to her arm.

"I smell no lie in your words or intentions. But I will warn you, my father does not trust easily, even if he sees that I have no misgivings towards you," he informed her, and she nodded.

"Thanks, Fen. As I said before, I have no reason to be a false friend just to seek his favor. I just see Loki for who he is. And you," she added, and leaned against his neck. "When do you think we can be excused without seeming to be rude?" she asked at length, while people began to mingle more as they finished their meal. Thor was talking animatedly with Loki, while Sif was apparently speaking with Hogun as Fandral sulked and Volstagg continued to eat.

"In about an hour," Fenrir replied in a tone as bored as hers.

She sighed. "How does Loki-doki manage?"

"Patience and pranks," was the dry answer.

"I suppose. Say, Fen, do you have any other form besides the Wolf form?" she asked curiously, carding his fur again with her fingers. It was almost shining now.

"I can only take on one other form, like that of an Aesir, but it is flawed. My ears and tail do not disappear," he replied calmly, and Willow suddenly snickered.

"I'd like to see that one day," she laughed, thinking of the classic anime depictions of such. Fenrir merely huffed. "I bet that's so cute though, following Loki around with ears and a tail. I'd love to brush your hair then and pet your ears. Would you growl then too?" she asked through her laughter. Fenrir bumped her with his head.

"No," he snarled back playfully.

"You totally _would_ ," she gasped, and felt Fenrir mouth her arm in annoyance. She only laughed harder. "Fen, that tickles!"

He let go and sighed, his entire body heaving under her as he gave up. "You are hopeless," he grumbled.

"Better get used to it, fluff ball," she replied gaily, nudging him. If they received even more looks after that, they ignored it.

The hour passed slowly, with some looking as though they wanted to approach her, but they never did because of Fenrir. Loki kept glancing their way as the minutes ticked by, while Thor occasionally looked at her with curiosity. Odin never looked her way once, though Frigga sent her a smile or two. When an hour had finally run out, she and Fenrir stood almost simultaneously to leave. Fenrir stretched himself while Willow sketched a curtsey to the King and Queen and immediately escaped back to Fenrir's side as he escorted her out. People gave them a large berth as they passed, but Willow didn't falter until they finally arrived out in the hallway and she could pelt down the hall unseen with Fenrir loping at her side.

They finally arrived at Loki's room, with a stop at hers along the way, and Fenrir flopped himself at the foot of the bed while Willow wriggled into more comfortable pajama-type clothes and curled up on Loki's bed, beginning to read her book. She continued to read through the book steadily, the daylight slipping over the horizon and lamplight spilling over her page instead. Fenrir left once through the balcony to take a run, coming back to find her still on Loki's bed and reading.

She learned that Yggdrasil was not only the root of magic, but that he was an ash tree whose branches stretched out to every corner of the universe. The three virgin Norns sat beside the well of fate at his base, weaving tapestries of history.

It was approximately after an hour and a half of reading when Loki finally came back, the lock clicking in the door as he entered. He rounded the corner and saw her in his bed, stopping short and raising a fine eyebrow.

"What. Are you doing," he asked, moving towards his closet.

"Reading," was her muffled answer from the depths of the book.

"I can see that," he replied in annoyance. "You know very well what I'm asking."

"I'm taking half of your bed," she said lazily, as though it were the most common thing in the world. There was a muffled thump from the closet.

Loki came back out in his own form of nightclothes. "No, you are not," he said sternly.

"Yea, I am," she reiterated, bookmarking the page and setting it carefully on a stand next to the bed. She crawled under the covers and peered out at him with wide eyes.

He stood above her with a most unimpressed look. "Go to your own room," he demanded, and she retreated into the covers.

"Nope!" she said through the blankets. He sighed irritably.

"You are not a baby to sleep in another's bed, and you will not like it if I wake up in the middle of the night to place a spell on you by accident," he growled, and she sat up, staring at him.

"Okay, y'know what? I'll come clean," she suddenly said, and patted the covers. His eyebrow twitched. "Humor me," she deadpanned, and he sat, arms still folded as he stared at her expectantly. "I was born on Midgard," she said, and sudden interest flittered through his eyes. "But, I am not, as you have already pointed out, a human. I was raised on Midgard for fifteen years, then fell ill and was placed under the care of a healer. I became most violently ill after that, falling into a sleep I could not be awakened from for an entire year. They kept me alive by machinery that forced liquid food through my veins and such. For that year, I dreamed of an entire different life, a false life with false friends and false family. When I awoke, I was confused and disoriented, because I had lived two lives and I did not know which one was real," she looked him straight in the eye the entire time she spoke, so that he could see the truth.

"I was sixteen. I did not live to see another year, and died several months after I awoke. I thought I was dead, and then I end up on Asgard, somehow. So, Loki, _you_ tell _me_ , do I tell you the truth?" she challenged, and saw his eyes narrow as he looked at her. After a tense moment, he nodded wordlessly. "I have lived a lie. I have loved people that were not real. I have died. I am _hurting_ and I am _confused_. I am a child, as everyone says. When I sleep, I have nightmares. I am sleeping with you because I want to and I need to, case closed," and so saying, she dived back under the covers.

"You reveal your weaknesses so easily," Loki said quietly, and she peeped out at him again. "Do you not fear being considered weak and paltry?"

She studied him for a moment. "Frankly, I am, so I don't see why not," she replied bluntly. "I can't fight, I can't magic, and I'm just a child. All I really have is my intellect," she shrugged, then looked at him. "I may not admit my weaknesses to everyone, but you're my friend. True friends keep secrets to the end of time. If you ever wanna tell me what you feel, then I'll be here."

There was another silence, in which she stared at Fenrir, while Loki stared at her unreadably. After a moment, she sighed. "Are you gonna come sleep?" she asked tiredly, and Loki silently blew out the lamp before crawling in next to her.

"Night, Loki," she murmured sleepily. She almost thought there wasn't going to be a reply, until she heard a mumble before she fell asleep.

"Sleep well, little Sapling."


	6. Sisters and Brothers Come with Pranks

_Managed to squeak this in while traveling, haha. Thank you all for your patience and love! My thanks as always to all my favorites and follows, and especially to all my reviewers. I love you all._

 _Shoutout to my absolutely incredible beta Madcinder, she's amazing!_

 _Please, without further ado,_

 _Read,_

 _Review,_

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

There was screaming. It wasn't happy screaming either, it was pain screaming and sobbing and begging for someone to find them and make the pain _just please stop_. It was apologizing and heartbroken and tortured screaming. Willow fought the urge to clap her hands over her ears and hunch down in a little miserable ball of fear and loathing for that screaming. Instead, she tore after the sound as fast as she could.

Her nightmares were pretty bad, but this was something she'd never dreamed before. The entire layout was strange, and something she didn't remember ever seeing before. Dark, slimy stone brushed her hands and made her shudder, while echoing was prevalent and pitch blackness covered her eyeballs so thick that she couldn't see her hand in front of her face. But the screaming was getting closer, so she pushed on, thinking that at least if she faced her fears then _maybe_ , just maybe, she could wake up or the dream would end.

The last thing she expected, when she stumbled out of the dark tunnel and into a lamp-lit cavern, was seeing Loki strapped to a rock with iron bands, a snake poised above his face and venom dripping from its fangs onto his face. Horror seized her, and for a moment she couldn't breathe. Was this _real_? Or was this a dream? Another dribble of venom precipitated another bloodcurdling scream, and her feet jolted from underneath her as she fairly rocketed to Loki's side. She didn't even take the time to _look_ at him before she had reached up and grabbed the snake right behind its head, giving an almighty yank. It didn't budge, hissing at her. Frustrated, she cupped her hand under it's jaws and braced herself for pain while tugging at the snake, but was surprised when the venom landed on her hands and simply disappeared without harming her. It was then that she knew it was a dream, and glared balefully at the thing.

"Hey! Get off, that's my friend you're hurting and I'm not about to let that happen!" she shrieked, and was shocked when the snake stopped hissing and started to slither down from the rock. Before she could move or blink, it had slithered _up her body_ and into her hair; but when she reached up, it was gone and all she felt was a little warm spot on her head that she traced down, looking at the tip of her hair. The long golden streak of hair that she fuzzily remembered Sif commenting on was _glowing_ , feeling warm in her palm as it fairly pulsed with life. She blinked at the golden lock nestled among the other black strands of hair, then shoved it away with confusion and turned back to Loki.

He was sitting up, bands somehow snapped and his face rapidly healing. As his glazed left eye and ruined face began to return to normal, she watched in horror and lurched over to the side, going into dry heaves. When she finally sat up again weakly, propped against the rock, Loki's hand was on her hair.

"I thought you said you didn't have magic," his voice was ice cold.

"I don't," she said weakly.

"Then care to explain how you have entered my dream?" he hissed, hand fisting in her hair. She reached up to grab his hands.

"I promise you that I don't have magic and if I do I have no idea how!" she yelped back, struggling to get her hair untangled from his fist. His hand went abruptly lax, and she turned around with tears of pain in her eyes to look at him. "Honest, Loki, I don't know how," she managed, rubbing her hair and wiping away tears.

He stared at her for a moment before shaking his head. "I apologize, Willow," he said quietly. "I should have guessed that perhaps you might have changed somehow in your journey here from Midgard," he said, then pulled her up onto the rock while the scenery changed. Instead, they were sitting on a path seemingly made of stardust, while the universe stretched out before them, planets and stars near and far.

"This is beautiful," Willow breathed, eyes wide. "Where are we?" she asked in a reverent hush, though there were none to hear them.

"This is a hidden path between worlds, which I have found and walked," Loki replied, looking out with her. For a moment they sat in silence.

"That was the time when Skadi had a vendetta against you, wasn't it," it was more of a statement then a question.

"Yes," his voice was curt.

"Why didn't anyone ever try to find you? To see if you were okay, that your 'punishment' was going right?" Willow asked, upset. "Heimdall could have looked. He has the soul stone doesn't he?"

A sharp glance was sent her way. "Not many from Midgard know such things."

"No, that's true. But I'm not a Midgardian and I don't know what I am and apparently I have powers that I didn't know I had," she said mournfully, curling up into a vulnerable ball and looking out at the scintillating stars that dazzled her eyes and made them tear.

"Your magic is strange," Loki offered, his posture open and leaned backwards, the opposite of hers. His eyes fixed on the stars as well, as they ignored the previous events in unspoken agreement. "Every magic wielder has a magic signature that they carry, and whenever such magic is used it leaves that signature behind so as to identify whose magic it is. Such a signature cannot be forged, and only hidden with complicated spells. When I first met you, you did not have a signature. Perhaps somehow your magic was goaded into being when you entered my dream, because now I can sense clearly the signature and it is raw," he finally turned to her, a curious look on his face.

"You tell the truth when you say you did not know, yet the magic is tamed within you while still being raw as though you have used it before. You could not have made the spell to hide it from me, yet it is like it has suddenly... come into being," his tone was mystified. Willow turned to him as well, intrigued.

"I don't know how," she reiterated, though she could well guess where it came from. Stage one mutation, kickstart from dream. Made sense to her. "What does it look like?" she asked him eagerly.

"It is blue and gold," he replied after a moment, then reached out to pull at the golden streak in her hair. "Like this, which I suspect is the outward manifestation of your magic."

She tugged at the streak as well, eyebrows furrowed. "I wonder what my powers are," she said thoughtfully, then seeing his bewildered face, explained. "On Midgard there are a few people who undergo strange changes that give them powers, like elemental control or energy control, telekinesis or something of the sort. Maybe I fell ill because my body was mutating to hold my own power. But for the mutants it's not exactly like we say spells, as far as I've heard, it's just manipulation of one specific thing. So maybe I'm a mutant with... dream hopping?" she laughed and then shrugged at herself. "Just a theory, though."

"It is believable," Loki admitted. "Perhaps you are right, though I am sure it is more than just... dream-hopping," he said the word with distaste, making her laugh.

"I should come up with a better name," she agreed, and looked back out at the stars with content. "I could stay here for a long time."

"I could as well," Loki agreed, and she smiled, uncurling and letting her feet dangle off of the edge of the path.

"Loki-doki?" she suddenly asked, and heard a sigh.

"I thought I told you not to call me that," his tone was distinctly unimpressed.

"I don't care," she replied carelessly. "But really, LokLokes," she insisted.

"What, little Sapling?" he finally groaned, but his voice was less guarded then it had been before, which she took as one point for her.

"Thanks," she said simply. He looked over at her, and she looked back.

"For what?" he asked, face openly confused.

"For y'know, last night. You helped me escape Thor - I have nothing against him but he just makes me uncomfortable - and you let me sleep with you. Plus, now that you're dream-sharing with me, I don't have to deal with nightmares alone," she replied soberly, looking down at her hands. Loki was quiet.

"That's what... friends do, do they not?" he finally asked hesitantly, and she looked at him with a wide grin.

"Always and forever, Loki," she replied, tangling her fingers with his. He stared down at them for a moment, and then gave her a surprisingly shy grin.

"Always and forever, little Sapling," he said in amusement.

"I'm not _that_ little," she muttered rebelliously, and earned a laugh.

"Says the one who is sulking childishly," he poked back.

"Okay fine, I'm a baby, happy now?" she stuck out her tongue at him.

"I would like to know where your smart retorts come from," he replied with a snicker, and she groaned.

"I'm never living that down am I?" she asked rhetorically. "I tend to - erm - _snark_ whenever I'm nervous or uncomfortable. It... kinda runs in the family," she grimaced, and her mind suddenly flashed to Tony. A minute later she beat it down, breathing to keep herself from uncovering memories she didn't want to remember.

"Is it?" Loki asked with a chuckle, and she grinned weakly.

"Yea." And she looked away. "When do you think we'll wake up?" she asked eventually.

"Probably when the screaming starts," Loki replied wickedly, and she blinked at him.

"Screaming?" she asked blankly.

"I set out the cups before I came into the room," he offered casually, and she looked at him in horror.

"What!? But they'll trace it to us!" she shrieked. He grinned at her.

"That's half the fun!" he shouted, just as everything went black.

* * *

Willow woke up flailing, drowning in blankets. She finally popped up from a tangled mess, gasping for air. Loki woke up beside her, neatly avoiding her limbs. She fell off the bed with a 'thump' and a muffled yelp.

"I hope you realize that you had better make your relationship with Loki as friends clear to the palace, or else there will be gossip," Fenrir remarked dryly, making her groan.

"Loki, you'd better spread the word, cause I sure as my name isn't Hela am going to be seen as your consort!" she yelled angrily, popping up from the floor with messy hair and rumpled clothes. Loki looked down at her from the bed with a sly grin.

"Do not worry, I have no desire to be seen in such a fashion either," he replied, stepping over her to go get changed in his closet. "I shall adopt you today," he decided lazily, and she choked.

"What!?" she had the sinking feeling that this was only the beginning of her troubles.

"Adopted, did you not hear me? The swiftest way to quell any rumor would be to declare you as my adopted sister and be done with it," he called from the water closet that time, coming out with neat clothes and perfect hair. She went over to his mirror to brush her hair, grumbling under her breath.

"Friends I said, forever and ever, and now you're getting adopted. Oh wonderful, Willow, just genius," she muttered sourly, as Loki appeared behind her and smirked.

"You said friends forever and ever, did you not?" An obsessive glint appeared in his eye. "What better way to make sure you do not leave than to make you my sister?" he asked, ruffling her hair as she cried out in protest and batted his hand away.

"Oh fine, do what you like, but don't touch the hair!" she complained.

"You are amenable to the idea?" There was a touch of surprise in his voice, and she stared at him through the mirror.

"What, being your adopted sister? Well I'd be your friend no matter what, so if it makes you feel better to adopt me than really what can I do anyway?" She shrugged. "Really doesn't matter one way or the other." She finally gave up on her hair. "I give up! This is as good as it gets," she declared, and marched to the wall. "Can you open a portal to my room?" she asked, and a door appeared. "Thanks."

She came back a few moments later looking relatively respectable, dressed in a pair of leggings and a tunic, to her relief. "We should be going to breakfast," Loki informed her, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Let's go then," she sighed, just knowing that the day was going to be a disaster.

"Why the long face?" he asked mischievously, though he knew good and well.

"I ain't even gonna answer that," she retorted. Fenrir trotted alongside them. They arrived at the hall leading to the dining area and Willow paused, looking resigned. The floors were covered with cups filled with water, side by side. It would take forever to clean them up. "Here goes nothing," she said mournfully, and began ginger stepping. Her feet balanced on the cups and she managed to make it to the other side by the power of physics. Loki was right next to her, while Fenrir had-

Willow gaped. A guy about a head taller than her but still shorter than Loki with strawberry blonde hair and grey-green eyes was stepping on the cups, while ears twitched on his head and a tail swished from side to side occasionally when he balanced. "That's Fen?" she squeaked, and felt Loki stiffen slightly. Fenrir finally arrived next to them, and was immediately tackled by Willow.

"Fen, you're so _cute_ and why didn't you tell me that you were this cute and please lemme touch your ears pretty please!" she squealed, bouncing up and down to bat at his ears and hug him. Fenrir sighed and placed a hand on her head to keep her still.

"Later," he deadpanned, and then morphed back into a wolf. Willow pouted but padded after him into the dining hall, while Loki relaxed once more. To Willow's surprise, everyone was in the dining hall already, and she gave Loki a suspicious glance.

"I may have made them appear _after_ everyone got in," he said innocently, and she rolled her eyes helplessly.

"I'm _so_ leaving after I finish eating," she hissed back, and earned a smirk.

"You mean after I declare that you are my sister," he replied calmly.

"What!?" she was wondering by now how many times she was going to say that. "Isn't there more to it than that!?"

"No," Loki replied, glancing at her. "I declare that I have adopted you and it is simply accepted. You do not inherit anything, but you will be treated as a royal. It is only if you were to go through a ceremony that you may inherit full rights, and I believe I am right that you do not wish that," he half-stated half-asked, and she nodded in relief.

"But I don't like crowds!" she squeaked in terror, and he rolled his eyes.

"It cannot be helped," he replied, and by then they were at the head of the table.

Willow curtseyed to Frigga, Odin, and Thor again, this time a little less nervously. They nodded back at her and greeted Loki, but Frigga sent her a curious glance that she ignored with some difficulty. They sat, and the meal began. Willow found herself next to Sif and across from Fandral again.

"Well, I see that the lady of snow has joined us again," Fandral said, and Willow swallowed her food before looking at him blankly.

"I see that the Fourth Warrior is recovering nicely from his burn from last night," she replied in a tone as cold and sweet and ice cream. Sif laughed again and turned to her.

"You must teach me how to shut his mouth as efficiently as you do," she said, and Willow shook her head.

"Perhaps the Prince Loki could teach you better, First Warrior, since I am yet an amateur," she replied demurely, and could practically _feel_ Loki's smirk. Sif raised an eyebrow.

"Is that so?" she asked dryly, and Willow stifled a smile.

"He is simply... _magical_ ," she replied slyly, ducking her head into her cup as Loki coughed slightly.

"Little Sapling, I believe you are forgetting who is the student here," he remarked next to her sternly, and she didn't even bother to look his way.

"I used to have a Master once, but I know not where he is gone. I believe he may have fallen behind," she said mournfully, seeing Sif begin to smile again as she heard Loki growl.

"Willow-"

"Sometimes I even believe I can hear his voice! My poor, beloved master." She wiped at her eyes while raising her cup in a dramatic toast. Sif and Fandral were snickering, and a moment later she yelped as she felt Loki yank a lock of her hair.

"What color is it now?" She turned to Sif, horrified, to see Sif's face contorted in an effort not to laugh.

"Dark green," Sif replied in a strangled tone, and Willow pursed her lips.

"Do I look cute?" she appealed to Fandral, who nodded enthusiastically.

"Well done for matching my natural blonde streak then," she told Loki in satisfaction, and calmly went back to eating. Loki sighed.

"I do believe that my brother has found someone to match him." Thor grinned at her across the table, and she managed a believable one back.

"My thanks, Prince Thor," she replied quietly, shying away again. She just didn't want to see Thor like this.

"She is utterly helpless," Loki said while sending her a mild glare.

"Oh well _excuse_ me for being a model child," she sniffed, earning a scoff from Loki and more laughter from Sif and Thor. Frigga was smiling a little more broadly than before, while Odin ignored everything and everybody.

"If you're a model child then I am an Elf," he retorted. Elves were known for looking upon the rest of the universe as being utterly inferior, and Asgardians were somewhere at the bottom of the list.

She looked at him with a horrified face. "You mean you're _not_?" she whispered in a terrified tone, and Sif and Thor lost it. They bent over with laughter, clutching their stomachs while Loki looked utterly offended. Frigga seemed to be covering her mouth with her fingers, her eyes bright with amusement.

"You must be from Niflheim itself," Loki declared, and she gave him a grin.

"Can I go back then to talk with Hela about what else makes you annoyed?" she asked in a sickly-sweet tone, and he gave up talking to her while Thor and Sif attempted to recover themselves. Frigga gave her a secret smile, to which she ducked her head shyly in pleasure.

The meal was coming to a close when Loki leaned over to Frigga and began murmuring too low for her to hear. Willow instead turned to her cup, drinking the last dregs of the juice and swinging her feet carelessly, feeling miles above the ground when it was just two feet. She was startled when Frigga nodded and stood, clinking her spoon against her cup. It was like magic, Willow reflected, how fast the hall quieted. It was like a wave, rippling into silence.

"Good people of Asgard, I present to you good news. Prince Loki Odinson," and Loki stood calmly, "has declared his intention to adopt Lady Willow, an orphan that Yggdrasil has seen fit to put upon our doorstep, as his sister. I, Frigga, do acknowledge his decision and accept Willow Friggadottir into the royal family. May it be so," and with that, Frigga tapped her glass again and sat down. Smattered applause went around before the hall began buzzing with animation, and Willow was left with her mouth slightly open and faint color on her cheeks.

"Congratulations, Willow!" Thor boomed, and her mouth snapped shut.

"Th-thank you, Prince Thor, Queen Frigga, I..." she trailed off. "I don't know what to say..."

"There is no need for words, my dear," Frigga replied calmly, and Willow subsided with a timid nod. Frankly, she was relieved at being called Friggadottir, child of Frigga, rather than Odindottir, because she just... preferred the queen. For good reasons.

"Call me big brother!" Thor exclaimed, and Willow smiled weakly.

"Thank you, Thor," she dropped the honorific, and Thor frowned in disappointment before seemingly shrugging it off.

"Simple," Loki said in an 'I told you so' tone, to which she merely shook her head.

"Should we call you Princess now?" Sif asked, half respectfully and half jestingly, and she quickly shook her head.

"Willow," she insisted. "Willow is fine. I'm not..." She bit her tongue.

"Your hair is back to black," Sif observed with a smile to break the awkwardness, and Willow sighed.

"Thank you, big brother," she said without looking, and heard a quiet chuckle in reply.

"I think I can get used to hearing that," Loki said slyly.

"Thanks LokLokes," she deadpanned.

"Stop calling me by such hideous pet names," Loki hissed as she smiled quietly but ferally.

"Loki-doki," she whispered, and leaped out of her chair to flee towards Fenrir as an enraged shout followed her. Sif was left to her laughter again while Fandral nursed the wounds to his ego and Thor remained blissfully unaware.

By the time the shrieking started, Willow was safely ensconced in Loki's room reading while propped against Fenrir. She had moved her casual clothes into an empty shelf in Loki's closet, also putting her brush by his mirror and essentially moving into his room. She knew he'd probably groan, but really didn't care. _He'd_ adopted her, so he was gonna hafta take responsibility.

Willow looked up at the same time as Fenrir, and they turned to stare at each other solemnly. "He's gonna be in trouble," Willow said soberly.

"He always is," Fenrir sighed, before plopping his head down again. They listened to the distant hubbub and roaring calmly, until Willow piped up again.

"Do you think I'll need to hide?" she asked.

"No."

"Alright then. Can I _please_ brush your hair now?" she begged, and Fenrir heaved a sigh before morphing in front of her eyes. Thankfully, he also morphed with a pair of clothes that were basically furs. She stifled her squeal and began to pet his ears with delight, combing her fingers through his hair.

After just a few moments, low growling began to issue from Fenrir's chest and his ears twitched. Willow burst into laughter. "I _knew_ it!" she exclaimed, and saw Fenrir open his eyes to give her a glare. "I _knew_ it!" she gasped, and went into a spasm of laughter. Fenrir decided to ignore her and went back to napping, while she eventually calmed down and began on his ears and hair again.

"I think it's stopped now," Willow said after a bit, and Fenrir grunted.

"He will most likely be arriving soon," was the lazy observation, before he morphed back into a wolf and went to take a run, leaping off of the balcony. Willow shrugged and went back to reading, only managing one page before the door opened and quickly shut again. Loki entered with not a hair out of place, straightening his tunic with a wide grin.

"Looks like the cat got the mouse," she remarked dryly.

"I shall have to persuade you to teach me more of these tricks," Loki snickered in reply, and Willow smiled faintly to see him so carefree for once. "Why are you in my room again?" he asked after a moment, and Willow looked over the spine of the book blankly.

"What do you mean?" she replied, and he glared at her suspiciously before going to look in the closet.

"No," he came back to her, arms crossed. "You will stay in your own room."

"Uh huh," she mumbled, absorbed in the book.

"Willow..." he growled.

"Sure big brother..." She waved a hand absently.

"There is no stopping you is there?" he asked resignedly.

"Nope," she popped the 'p.'

"I could cast a spell to move you," he said, raising a hand. She sent him a raised eyebrow that spoke volumes. "And cast another to _keep_ you out." This time both eyebrows were up.

"Did Mum say anything about your prank?" she asked, ignoring the threat. Loki raised his eyes to the heavens before giving up.

"No," he replied, sitting down on a chair. "Father had plenty to say," he said with a casual shrug as though it happened all the time - which it did. Willow set down the book.

"And what did people say about me?" she asked in a small voice.

"Does it matter?" Loki snapped at her.

"I'm afraid of embarrassing you," she bit back, then turned away from him in a curled up little ball. "I am not a royal and I am a nobody."

There was a silence. "There was harmless gossip, nothing more," his voice was more gentle.

"Don't lie," her voice was muffled by her sleeves.

"The worst was that I had cast a spell on you to make you agree," he said irritably. "So stop sulking."

Willow turned back around. "So you do care," she said smugly, and he huffed.

"Where you get your idiotic ideas I do not know."

Willow just grinned. The biggest tsundere in the universe, probably, and she just had to be stuck with him as an officially unofficially adopted sister. Oh well, such is life. Fenrir came back in a few minutes later, looking less wound up.

"Loki?" Willow suddenly spoke up forlornly.

"What."

"Can I have a hug?" she turned pleading eyes on him.

"No." Loki didn't even look at her, concentrating on the spell book in front of him.

"Just an illusion then?" she wheedled, and with a flick of his hand an illusion of him appeared in front of her. "How solid is it?" she asked suspiciously.

"As solid as you," the illusion replied coolly, and she grinned before yanking the illusion down to the floor by his hand. Illusion Loki sat lotus-style with his arms crossed, and Willow huffed before prying his arms apart and leaping into his lap sideways, cuddling against his chest and resuming reading her book. Illusion Loki let out a noise of protest, but she ignored it and snuggled in closer, leaning her head against his chest and reading more. After a few moments, the Illusion sighed and propped his arms on his knees, partially encasing her in his arms. She hid a smile.

"I know how to tell which one is an illusion now," she piped up after a moment.

"And how would that be?" Loki sounded indulgent.

"The temperature," she replied immediately, and heard him shift towards her.

"What?"

"The temperature of the illusion matches the temperature of the person interacting with it at the time. My body temperature is usually lower than most people because I get cold very easily. Everyone is warmer than me unless I'm sweltering. The illusion has no noticeable body heat warmer than mine," she stated matter-of-factly, and earned a long look in reply. She ignored him and went back to reading, curling one fist in the illusion's tunic.

"Perhaps I shall have to fix that, then," was the reply. She didn't answer. "You are rather clingy, I have noticed," Loki went on.

"Yes," she replied simply.

"And is there a reason?"

Willow froze for a moment, feeling as though she didn't want to answer. Almost instinctively, she hunched into the illusion's arms before forcing herself to relax again. "It is hard for me to trust people so easily, but when I find someone that I feel within my heart I can trust, then I yearn for physical affection," she finally replied stiffly. "I had no mother for most of my life and my father was not one to show such physical affection until I was near to death's door. When I am frightened or lonely I seek tangible comfort, usually in the form of physical affection." She promptly shut down after that, lips thinned as she turned back to her book pointedly.

"I apologize for asking," Loki said quietly, and she nodded curtly.

There was no more talk after that, and they sat together in silence for the rest of the day, skipping lunch to attend dinner only. Willow merely ate and then fled, holing herself up in Loki's room to escape the stares and curling up on the bed while she waited for Loki to get back.

When he finally did, he found her huddled in the blankets and shivering slightly. Fenrir leapt up onto the foot of the bed and curled up, while Loki changed and blew out the lights before sliding into the bed as well. He laid down on his side facing her and sighed as her shivering rustled the blankets.

"Come here," he said grudgingly, and Willow peeked out at him to see that he was holding up the blanket under his arm with a resigned look. She eyed him for a moment before deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, cautiously ducking under his arm and clutching his tunic in her hands. He lowered the blanket and curled one arm around her firmly.

"Did you used to do this with the others?" she asked sleepily.

"Yes," he replied after a beat.

Willow pondered the situation for a few moments. Here she was, in Asgard, dropped here by the Voice, and a day later adopted by Loki and Frigga. Now she was curled up next to Loki like a lost puppy, cold and lost and alone, unsure of herself in this new life and new world with a power that slightly frightened her. A sudden burst of gratitude filled her heart for Loki, because he had put up with her for the past two days of her instability and agreed to be her friend, even adopting her. Perhaps without realizing what it meant for her, since his motives were frankly selfish, but it was meaningful nonetheless.

"I love you, big brother," she finally said sleepily, drifting off. It was unfortunate that she missed the sudden tightening of Loki's arm, and the look of pure shock on his face as he stared down at her head.

* * *

"Are we going to end up like this every night?" Willow asked Loki from where they sat in the aftermath of a battlefield, both spattered with blood and grime. Willow's voice was weak from dry heaving again, though she leaned against Loki anyway, the golden stripe in her hair glowing again.

"Most likely," his voice was detached. "You can leave anytime you like," he added bitterly.

There was a pause. "Nah, I'm fine. Better here with you than alone in my own nightmares," she decided, then laced her fingers with his again.

"And if I don't want you to know what I dream of?" Loki replied bitingly.

"You probably could have thrown me out anytime, but I think by now you know that I won't judge you, big brother. I'm not like the others, unfortunately," she replied calmly, while the scenery changed to the gardens behind the palace that she had seen from Loki's balcony. They were seated in front of a quiet fountain, clean and fresh once more.

They were quiet for a while, lost in their own thoughts. "You are not like others," Loki finally said quietly. "I do not understand you."

Willow laughed sourly. "I don't think anyone does," she replied, shrugging.

"You admit your weaknesses so quickly, and you admire me where others look upon me with suspicion. I have always been different," he went on, sounding frustrated. "What makes you so different?"

Willow looked ahead, thoughtful and sad. "Well, it could be because I come from a culture where magic is looked upon with more awe than disdain, or perhaps because I can share some things in common with you that the other Aesir do not, or maybe it is because I see _who_ you are, not what you are expected to be, and I accept you for that. I see your weaknesses and I accept them because nobody can be perfect and everyone has their own curves and edges. It could be all of them. It is said on Midgard by the wise that admitting you need help is a strength, not a weakness, because you are acknowledging that you have limits and you are displaying supreme courage by opening yourself to the criticism of others. It's hard to do, but it's not impossible, and it's not a bad thing. I don't understand why here in Asgard it's considered better to suffer in silence than admit that you need help," she answered, carefully and slowly. "Even the best of kings need counselors to help them rule."

Loki seemed to turn over her words, picking them apart in his mind. "To suffer in silence is the sign of strength. To admit weakness is cowardly," he said at last.

"Stupid. Breaking down your own body," she scoffed, and kicked her feet in the grass.

"Odd indeed, little Sapling," Loki smirked at her while she turned to him with a roll of her eyes.

"Yea yea, big brother, whatever," she sighed.

"You said something odd before you fell asleep. Care to explain what you meant?" Loki said casually, while Willow sent him a look.

"I think you heard loud and clear what I said," she replied shortly.

"I heard what you _said,_ I didn't say I knew what you meant in your tired state," he retorted, flicking his hand.

"I meant _exactly_ what I said. Is that so hard to believe?" She squinted at him.

"You can't," he said dismissively. "Stop avoiding it."

"I'm not," she glared at him, standing up and getting in his face. "I _said_ , I love you big brother, and I _meant_ every word exactly the way it sounds. Shall I shout it?" she demanded, and he covered her mouth with his hand.

"Don't," and his voice was low. "You cannot, after only knowing me for two days."

She moved his hand. "I _can_ , and I'll prove it to you, one day," she said confidently, sitting back down and swinging her legs freely. "You'll see." Then she took the opportunity to scoot into his lap, closing her eyes and clutching a fistful of his tunic.

He didn't move her for the rest of the night.


	7. Coronations, Crowns, and Crimes

_Hello again, fellow fans!_

 _I've been really busy, so y'all better appreciate that I got this to you on time, haha. XD But no really, thank you for your patience, as always, and your support! Welcome to the new followers, thank you to favorites, and especial thanks to reviewers. Please keep them coming!_

 _Credit for the double checking and editing goes to Madcinder, my beta. I'm with you till the end of the line!_

 _Please,_

 _Read!_

 _Enjoy!_

 _Review!_

* * *

Time worked differently in Asgard than what Willow was used to. It didn't matter as much here as it did back on Earth, and before she knew it, so much time had passed. Fenrir was almost twice the size he had been when she first arrived, making him roughly the size of a bear, and skulked about nearby her if he wasn't with Loki.

Despite Loki's threats, he had not moved her out of his room, and Queen Frigga found it amusing that Willow always dressed in Loki's too-big tunics that made her look smaller than she already was compared to the other Asgardians. Odin merely tolerated her presence, neither happy nor angry at her adopted status. Thor continually hounded her with pleas to call him 'big brother,' which she always managed to avoid and only called Loki such, which made him rather proud of her.

The relationship between Loki and Willow had slowly grown, with Loki coming to trust her like he did Fenrir and Frigga. He was protective of her, always making sure she didn't get in trouble for whatever prank he convinced her to teach him next and shielding her from the jibes or flirtations of others. They still dream-shared every night, with Willow's magical prowess slowly growing. Every time Loki dreamed of some creature he feared, Willow would somehow absorb it with the glowing golden strand in her hair, and Loki never dreamed of the exact same situation again.

Asgard as a whole, on the other hand, treated her with much the same respect but wariness that they treated Loki, which really didn't bother her since she knew she was strange by their standards. Rumors of her being under some spell still circulated, and other not-so-pleasant ones as well, but they could not be helped. She appeared to the public only when strictly necessary, and otherwise stayed within the safety and shelter of the palace and its private grounds. It wasn't as though she would get bored at any rate, not with Loki and Fenrir and Thor and the gigantic library.

Frigga tended to treat Willow more like a granddaughter than a daughter, apparently seeing her as Loki's daughter more than sister. It didn't bother Willow, as she was fond of the Queen in her own way.

Despite the positive turn her life had taken, Willow was not exactly at ease. Due to her presence and the way Fenrir had begun to follow her around like an alpha Wolf would his cub, more and more Asgardians had begun to grow progressively leery and fearful of the giant Wolf. Tensions began to slowly but steadily rise within and without the palace alike, and Willow was afraid for Fenrir's life. If mythology proved right, things were going to go south _really_ fast and probably _pretty_ soon with the way they looked now; and if Willow knew herself, she knew that it would not prove good for her either. Fenrir was her - nephew? whatever - and she would defend both him and Loki with her last breath. It basically screamed trouble for her.

The trouble, when it finally came, was at a most inopportune time. Loki had been unhappy because Odin had been talking about setting a date for Thor's coronation.

"He is not ready! He is impetuous and cannot manage anything related to diplomacy." Loki paced about the room, looking as though he wanted to tear his hair out by the roots.

"I think Thor would make a good King, but only if he can learn how to be humble," Willow said quietly, curled up by the balcony with Fenrir acting as a buffer against the breeze. "He has good traits, but recently I feel that his ego has overshadowed them..." She had been hoping that since Thor's coronation had begun to be discussed, Fenrir might escape the fate that the _Eddas_ gloomily predicted. Perhaps she had changed that?

"Exactly." Loki pointed at her for a brief moment before resuming his pacing. "But Father will not listen to me or Mother. He _cannot_ be given such a position without bringing utter ruin to our relations with the other realms!" he exclaimed in both concern and irritation. "Already his head threatens to be too big for that ridiculous winged helmet just hearing it being discussed," he added viciously.

Willow just sat huddled against Fenrir, watching Loki with wide eyes. He stopped and sighed, catching a glance of her watching him. "What," he growled irritably.

"Do you want to be King, big brother? You're a Prince, after all," she asked quietly, and saw him pause and blink.

"No," he replied after a moment. "Thor would be a good King, but he is not _ready_. I have no desire to usurp his throne." He shook his head. "Mother would be a better ruler," he sniffed, sitting down on a chair. "I must do something..." he muttered, tapping his fingers thoughtfully. Willow almost whimpered with fright at the thought, trying to curl up tighter. She didn't want to see it happen. She didn't want to see him go down a path of pain and anger.

"You're shaking," Fenrir growled at her, and Loki turned to look at her.

"I'm fine," she whispered back. "Just... cold. And tired," she sighed, leaning against Fenrir for more warmth.

Loki was by her side in an instant, pressing his hand against her forehead while green wisps curled around his hand. His eyes narrowed. "Why didn't you tell me you were ill," he hissed, voice dangerously low. Willow refused to look him in the eye.

"I'm a Midgardian in body. We get ill sometimes," she mumbled, feeling guilty despite herself.

"Except that you know it is not a normal illness and still neglected to tell me," Loki snapped, though she knew it was more concern than anger.

"Alright, alright, I knew and I _was_ going to tell you so that you wouldn't worry too much but you were busy and I didn't," she replied stubbornly, sulking. Loki sighed, standing up.

"Come here," he said with an exasperated air, and she stood to walk over to him, gait slightly uneven. "Sit." He pointed to the bed, and she sat, still sulking. He placed his hands on her face, tilting it up towards his. His hands glowed green with magic, and Willow suddenly gasped, her hands flying up to wrench his hands off.

"No!" she exclaimed. "No, Loki, don't!"

Loki paused, staring at her in bewilderment. "Are you mad? I am healing you," he said.

"No." She shook her head, curling up again. "No, you're not," she whispered, beginning to shake. Fenrir leaped onto the bed, curling around her protectively.

"There is something you are not telling me," Loki realized, and pried her arms away from her tear-streaked face. "Tell me," he commanded. Willow looked down again, eyes squeezed shut.

"They tried to keep me alive with medicine that would slow the abnormalities in my body from completely overtaking me. It kept me alive long enough, but it hurt so much," she finally whispered, voice cracked. "Don't... please don't magic it. I don't wanna hurt again," she pleaded. Loki tilted her chin up firmly.

"You think that this is linked to your magic," he clarified, and she shifted.

"I don't know," she admitted. "But even if it's not, I just... I don't have good memories. Please don't, big brother," she finally said wearily, and Loki sighed.

"Very well," he conceded grudgingly, sitting next to her. After a while of silence, Willow dried her eyes again.

"What will you do?" she asked, voice more normal than it had been a moment ago.

"I do not know," Loki admitted. "I do not think there is anything I can do," he said bitterly.

"Maybe... maybe things will work out anyway," she offered weakly.

Loki laughed with scorn. "Things never work out the way they are intended to," he replied.

"No, they don't." Willow looked away, heart aching. What if she hadn't done enough? What if he _wouldn't_ change? What if she hadn't made _anything_ better?

"What do you think of him?" Loki suddenly asked, and there was a tone in his voice that made her blood run cold.

"Thor? He's... he's like you said; he would make a good King if he could... change for the better. I admire him as a warrior, but as a member of the family I wish better for him," she replied warily, unsure of where this was going.

"Perhaps if I stopped the ceremony. If I could show how unfit he is, how reckless," Loki said slowly, thoughtfully, and she wondered that her blood was not ice.

"How?" her voice almost cracked.

"To bring a harmless surprise," he decided, eyes beginning to gleam in mischief as they usually did when he was planning something. She was sure that if someone touched her she would break in pieces.

"Like what?" Willow didn't even know how she managed to get it out.

"You do not need to worry about it." Loki began to stand when Willow's hand darted out quicker than a snake and latched onto his hand.

"No," and her voice was steel. "I know that look on your face Loki, and I'm _scared_ of what you're planning to do," she bit out, and saw him turn to her with a blank face.

"Since when have my pranks gone wrong?" he asked mildly.

"There's always a first, and this is Thor's _coronation_ , Loki," she hissed back. "You can't just make a prank on an occasion like that." She was grasping at straws, and she knew it. She wanted to stop herself, but couldn't. Thor had to go to Earth. How else was he going to get there? Loki looked down at her hand, still latched desperately onto his.

"Then go with me," he suddenly offered, looking up at her with such _green_ eyes. "I will protect you, and you shall see that I do this for our brother's benefit," he urged, and a sudden shaft of _hope_ lanced through her, so much that it made her feel almost breathless.

"What?" confusion laced her tone.

He frowned at her. "Did you not hear me? We will do this for Thor's sake, and for Asgard's," he repeated. Her head was whirling. Maybe... maybe something _had_ changed? Or was he lying?

"Surely there's another way?" she pleaded, as a last minute hope.

"This way is a good way, Willow," he insisted. "I will see that it happens aright. Come with me," he said, and Willow gave in. Perhaps - perhaps this was better. If she could be there and _see_ that it would be alright...

"Alright," she hung her head. "Fine."

"We'll leave the day before the coronation," he said confidently. "We can take the hidden path."

"Where are we going?" she asked, placing a hand on her forehead and realizing that her hand was clammy.

"Jötunheim," he replied, and she nearly toppled off the bed.

"What!?" she shrieked.

"We will bring a few Frost Giants through the hidden paths and hide them in the dungeons, then let them out just before the coronation and tell them to find the Casket of Ancient Winters in the relics vault. It's guarded by the Destroyer, so they will never take it." He began to get more involved in the idea.

"Isn't that... dramatic?" Willow asked faintly.

"Willow, do you not see?" He strode forwards to grasp her arms. "It's simple. The Jötuns will never defeat the Destroyer and Thor _will_ want to fight them, because he will not see it in the way that Father will. Father will see that Thor is unfit for the throne because he cannot grasp any idea of diplomacy," Loki finished triumphantly, leaving her reeling.

"I... I don't know," she finally rasped. "You... you do it... Just please make sure it doesn't go wrong," she pleaded.

"If it does, I will fix it," Loki shrugged, then gave her a long look. "You should sleep," he added curtly.

Willow leaned against Fenrir, feeling slightly feverish. "Alright," she paused, "I trust you, Loki," she murmured, and felt a hand against her head.

"Sleep." But his voice was softer than usual.

* * *

Willow stood quietly by Frigga's side in the throne room, where Odin was announcing when Thor's coronation would take place. It was just an announcement to the court, not yet the public, and after he made it known the court would proceed like it always did. Willow was there just for the announcement.

Cheering erupted when the date was announced, while Thor beamed and his chest swelled. Loki sent her a glance from beside Thor, but she ignored it. She felt almost ready to cry, not sure what was going to happen or what would take place. Thor _had_ to go to Earth, and she could not see any way he could possibly get banished without Loki doing what he was planning to. It wasn't like she could _tell_ somebody about her knowledge!

"However, before this court adjourns, there is another matter to be dealt with," Odin intoned, catching Willow's attention. Frigga suddenly froze beside her, and a sudden horrified suspicion began to grow in Willow's mind, especially when she realized that she had not seen Fenrir since that morning. "Bring him in," Odin said, and Willow didn't bother to hide her shock when Fenrir was literally _dragged_ in, kicking and snarling in spite of the bonds that held his feet fast. Loki had gone utterly still, and Willow was afraid for the lives of those in the room. Thor was frowning.

"Fear has begun to grow amongst the Aesir at the ever-increasing growth of Fenrir, expressing concern that he shall follow in the footsteps of his brother Jörmungandr," Odin said, and then his voice became stern. "And recently the Queen has had a vision of Fenrir devouring the sun and moon and slaying me and many others. For the safety of Asgard and its people, I declare that he shall be bound and exiled, to never come nigh to Asgard-"

"No!"

Heads whipped to Willow in pure shock, as she stood there, hyperventilating. Odin looked displeased. "Child-"

"No," she fairly snarled, glaring at Odin with anger. "Just because he is large and you had a _vision_ that he would do these things, doesn't mean that you have the right to do _this_ to him and treat him like a menace just because he's _different_. Since when has Fenrir _ever_ harmed anyone, or ever showed any malice towards others? Is it merely his size that frightens them? Is that something he has control over? Would you treat him like he's just a _cur_ because of his _size_? For the Norn's sake, he's your _grandson_ ," she hissed in righteous fury.

"He has bit the hand off of Tyr-" Someone spoke up, and Willow rounded on them with a ferocity that stunned them into silence.

"Because you _tricked him and tied him up_!" she fairly shrieked. "What would _you_ do in his situation?" she challenged. Odin had risen to his feet by then, while Frigga looked distraught and Loki looked stunned.

"Willow Friggadottir, I demand-"

"You demand _nothing_ of me, AllFather." She cut him off with a slash of her hand, beyond the point of fear. " _You_ are the one who is supposed to uphold justice in this realm, not toss it aside just because _your_ life is _supposedly_ at risk. Did you ever consider that the vision might have been a warning _against_ doing this, lest Fenrir be turned against you in anger at your injustice and do these things in revenge and pain that his _family,_ the people supposed to _protect_ him, were the ones who betrayed his trust?" she demanded, jabbing a finger in his direction, then rushed to Fenrir's side, kneeling down where he could see her. He immediately calmed, looking at her with pleading, wide eyes. She slid a hand into the corner of his jaws, and he moved not a muscle.

"He is not a monster." She looked up at Odin with tears in her eyes. "He is a person just as much as you are, King Odin," she pleaded. "Do not do this, I beg of you." She clasped her hands, more than willing to beg for his life. "He is my family, and I love him. I will protect him with my life and all that I have," she added, and saw that Frigga was close to tears.

There was a dead silence in the room. "What gives you the right to challenge my decision?" Odin's voice was not angry, merely flat and unreadable.

"I have the right of love and a clear mind," she replied evenly. "I have the right because I am adopted into your household and I deserve to have a say in the fate of my family. I have the right to stop injustice, and to stop someone I respect from doing a deed that will forever estrange him from his son, and his adopted daughter. I have the right to stop you from doing your own grandson a grievous wrong," she said boldly, looking straight at Loki, whose lips were thin and his face paler than usual.

Odin surveyed her for a moment, and she lifted her head slightly, meeting his eyes without hesitation. The atmosphere was tense. "And if I do not listen to your pleas?" he finally asked.

"Then I cannot guarantee my actions or the safety of those who dare to lay a hand on him," she replied calmly and with a voice of pure ice.

"A King must not be swayed by the foolhardy actions of his son's sister," Odin said sternly.

"A King must have the courage and the wisdom to admit to his wrongs and make them right before he goes down a path that will lead to pain," she shot back firmly.

"Then will you take responsibility for the Wolf known as Fenrir?" Odin asked formally.

"I will take full responsibility for my _nephew,_ " she agreed pointedly.

"To make certain that the safety and comfort of the people are ensured, I hereby declare that Willow Friggadottir has the full responsibility of the Wolf Fenrir, and place a spell upon him so that she may control his size as she deems fit," Odin declared, pointing Gungnir at her and Fenrir. A blast of light coalesced around them, and when Willow had managed to blink the stars in her vision away, she turned to see that Fenrir was freed of the bonds and was the size of a normal wolf. He staggered to his feet, shaking his head, and then immediately stepped to her side, whimpering in confusion and fear.

"My thanks, AllFather." She curtseyed deeply, then turned to Fenrir. "Come, little brother," she murmured, and he followed her out as she exited without another word or backward glance.

Willow went to Frigga's room, sitting down on the floor and immediately drawing Fenrir's head into her arms, bursting into frightened tears. "I'm sorry Fen, I'm sorry!" she wailed, shaking in pent-up terror from the last half-hour. The Wolf nudged her head gently, licking her ear.

"Thank you," he said quietly, and she broke down completely. Frigga found them both there later, Fenrir silently lying in Willow's lap as she continued to sob into his fur. The Queen bent down to Willow's side, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I apologize, my dears. I did not know that Odin would act as he did," she said with regret.

"I know," Willow managed through her tears. "I knew, when you froze so." She shook her head. "I just... I'm scared, Mother!" she cried, and Frigga drew her into her arms.

"Scared of what, child? Odin will not betray his word," she comforted.

"No, no, it's not that, it's just-" Willow hiccuped. "Loki's worried about Thor being crowned because Thor's not ready and he wants the King to see it so he's doing something stupid to interrupt the coronation and prove that Thor isn't ready and I'm worried it'll go wrong even though he's sure it won't and I don't know what to do!" she cried in frustration.

"Tell me what he is going to do," Frigga told her, tilting her chin up.

"I can't," she replied miserably. "I can't."

"Is it because he has made you sworn not to tell?" Frigga asked sternly, and Willow shook her head.

"No, it's because of other things," she said stubbornly, panicking at the hole she'd dug herself. "I would if I could, but I can't." She begged Frigga to understand with her eyes.

"You are frightened and hopeless, child, for reasons I do not know," the Queen said softly, sadness in her eyes as she brushed Willow's cheek. "Yet something tells me that to make you confess would bring consequences that are not worth bearing." Her face softened. "I knew the moment I saw you that you carried a heavy burden. I do not think it would have been given to you unless you were meant to have it. Have faith, child," she encouraged, and Willow nodded miserably.

"But I'm sick again, and I don't want to," she said wearily, wiping her nose on her sleeve. Frigga sighed, taking a proper handkerchief and wiping Willow's face.

"Those are things that you must deal with on your own," Frigga replied simply, and then kissed her head gently. "Go now, Loki will need you," she said, and Willow didn't even ask how she knew, just hauling herself up and trying to stumble to the door. Fenrir wordlessly scooped her up onto his back and took off at a run, arriving at Loki's door seconds later.

He pushed open the door and kicked it shut, drawing a restless Loki's attention to the shivering and clearly sick girl on his back. Loki was there in an instant, placing Willow on the bed while Fenrir leaped up beside her to warm her with his body heat. She was wracked with shivers and pain, looking up at Loki with feverish eyes.

"Loki," she whispered, and he gave her a sharp look.

"Do not speak, you are ill," he said tersely.

"I know," she replied, and held his hand. His hand was warm compared to hers, and Willow knew that he was around the same temperature as she was usually, due to the heritage he didn't know yet. "But please, big brother," she rasped. "Please... don't do anything too rash..."

"I won't," he replied, then dropped her hand to place his on her forehead. "Foolish girl, speaking against Father before the court..." he sighed.

"I've already died once. Fenrir is more than worth whatever consequences may arrive," she whispered. "Besides, I told you already, I love you. And Fen," she murmured, smiling lopsidedly. "Told you I'd prove it."

"Be quiet," Loki muttered, but his hand brushed hair behind her ear. "Sleep."

She didn't need another invitation, slipping into an uneasy doze.

* * *

There was screaming again. Except this time, it wasn't pained screaming, it was angry yelling. It was frustrated, angry yelling, tinged with fear. Willow felt confused. That was _not_ Loki's voice, so whose dream had she accidentally hopped into now?

Unable to see anything, Willow began to wander around blindly. It took a while, but she finally found herself heading towards light, plodding through what felt like mud to reach it. When she got there, she froze.

"No! No, please, let me out, I'm not supposed to do this! I can't forget, you can't make me forget!" A man sat rocking himself back and forth, broken and weeping.

Willow swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and stepped forwards further, making the man's head snap up. Their eyes locked, and for a split second life flickered in his eyes, then dulled.

"I miss you, Willow," he rasped, turning his head wearily. "You would hate to see me now..."

Willow's heart broke as she went to sit beside him, touching his arm. "Except that I'm not a dream," she replied softly.

"With all the drugs they keep me on, I wouldn't put it past a hallucination." He shrugged bitterly. "I wonder if they know about you too, since I seem to have spilled most of what I know."

"Bucky, I'm not a dream, I'm not a hallucination, and I'm very real. If I were, would I look different from your memories?" she asked, and raised his hands to her face. "Look," she murmured. "Feel. I'm real." She showed him the golden stripe in her hair and the dress she was wearing.

"You died. I saw you, watched your funeral. Steve cried so much. Howard never said a word." Bucky seemed to be trying his best to convince himself that she wasn't real.

"Bucky!" she interrupted him, scooting closer to place her hands on his cheeks and make him face her. "Where are we?" she asked.

"My head," was the weary answer. "They keep trying to flush me out and keep the other me. I'm tired of fighting. The only way I can regain control is if something triggers my memories, but before a week passes they stick me back in the blender." His fist clenched.

"Alright, alright," she soothed. "Look, I'll prove I'm real. Have you ever heard of mutations?" she asked, and he stared at her thoughtfully.

"I think I heard them talking about it," he answered. "People who have genetic changes right?"

She nodded. "Yes. I was the first mutant of the century. My body couldn't handle it, but that doesn't mean I'm gone. My mutation allows me to travel through people's dreams. I'm very real, Bucky. I know what's happening to you," she begged him to understand, to believe. "I'm _here_ , Bucky. You used to call me doll, remember? And the one time I got mad cause you called me honeybunches and I lost my voice?" she asked.

His brown eyes looked at her incredulously. "But... where'd you go?" Confusion laced his tone.

"Somewhere you wouldn't know," she laughed dryly. "But I'm safe, don't worry, even if I'm a little sick. In fact, I fell asleep not long ago, and that's how I'm visiting you now," she said, hugging him tightly. "I missed you, Bucky. All of you," she whispered, and felt his arms wrap around her. Willow could have cried at the contact, not having felt such a hug for more than a year.

"Please don't leave." Bucky's forlorn voice made the tears begin to roll. "You help me remember."

"Don't give up," she pleaded, burying her face into his shoulder. "Please don't give up. Just do the best you can, and one day you'll be able to get free. I just know it," she said, and his arms tightened.

"Only if you promise not to go," he replied stubbornly, and she could feel the Bucky she knew coming back a little.

"I can't stay asleep forever," she sighed, pulling back to look at him. "But I promise I'll try to visit as much as I can, okay?" she promised, and he sighed reluctantly before nodding.

"For Steve," he declared, and Willow nodded back firmly.

"For Spangles," she agreed, and was rewarded with a faint but genuine laugh. She kissed his cheek carefully. "See you, Bucky." She grinned.

"See ya 'round, doll," he answered, and looked a little better than he had before. Willow nodded before she felt the whole world tilt.

* * *

"Loki, I don't _want_ to!" Willow cried, trying to run away from him. He growled in frustration, reaching for her again only to have her leap away.

"Willow, you _must_ ," he replied sternly, lunging for her as she shrieked and dodged.

"Nooooo! I don't wanna see that many people and I don't want to see your prank go wrong!" she wailed, but felt her tunic get snagged in his fingers.

He dragged her towards him with little effort, and she faced him sulkily, arms crossed. "You _will_ , and it will _not_ go wrong," he said firmly, then dumped into her arms a dress that Frigga had sent, then pointed towards the water closet.

"And if you do not, I will cast a spell and do it myself," he added, and she reluctantly retired to the closet to change. Once she deemed herself respectable enough, she reemerged and let Loki give her a once over.

"Good enough," he said. "Now come," he insisted, and she ran towards the bed where Fenrir lay.

"Sorry Fen," she said before placing a hand on his fur. A blue glow formed, causing Fenrir to shrink until he was the size of a puppy. She picked him up in her arms, looking back to Loki.

"Now I'll go," she declared, and Loki sighed in resignation. Fenrir didn't seem to be disturbed, laying his head against her arm as she scratched behind his ears. He hadn't said a word since the day the whole fiasco had happened, but rather stuck like glue to Willow's side, or when she wasn't around, Loki.

Willow followed after Loki silently, the slippers on her feet making no sounds on the tiled floors. They met Thor in the hallway, while Willow just stroked Fenrir's fur to calm both herself and him. She had the sick feeling churning in her stomach when she knew that something was going to go wrong, or things were going south.

"You are incapable of sincerity," Thor scoffed, bringing Willow back to the present. Fenrir bristled and growled softly, and Willow hushed him softly. Thor glanced at them.

"Am I?" Loki replied seriously. "I've looked forward to this day as long as you have. You're my brother and my friend. Sometimes you're an idiot, but never doubt that I love you," he said sincerely, and the changing of one phrase made joy and hope bubble up in Willow's chest like never before.

"I wish you'd say that to me," she piped up forlornly, and Thor chuckled as he clapped his hand on Loki's shoulder and grinned at her.

"Ah, but the more he cares the less he says it," he jested easily, and she gave him a weak smile. Loki glanced at her, and there was a warmness in his gaze that he normally refused to show.

She ducked her head shyly and followed after them down the hall, parting ways with Thor at the entrance while entering with Loki. They drew gazes from the large crowd that was gathered, and Willow swallowed as she took her place beside Frigga.

"Are you well, dear?" Frigga murmured too quietly for anyone else to hear, and she shook her head slightly.

"I do not feel very well," she admitted quietly. "But I will be alright." She hoped. Frigga sent her a glance but did not answer, while Odin didn't even glance her way. Anxiety squeezed at Willow's chest, and she clutched Fenrir a little tighter. He pawed her hair slightly, and she smiled down at him, nuzzling his nose. Mjolnir suddenly roared into the hall, Thor following to swiftly catch it behind his back, earning wild cheering from the crowds. Willow looked down slightly, swallowing. Seeing Thor like this was so _wrong._

Odin began his speech and the oaths, and Willow shivered as she felt the cold creep up from the floors. More and more people began to notice the cold as well, and Willow fought to keep herself from yelling in panic and warning. Her chest was so tight that it almost hurt, and Fenrir snarled as his fur hackled. Ice began to crackle and creep up the pillars, and Willow fought the impulse to look at Loki.

"Frost Giants," Odin realized aloud, and Thor was out the door in a moment as the Warriors Three and Sif followed him. Odin and Loki stepped down next, and in the chaos Willow managed to slip away relatively unnoticed to follow them as well. She set Fenrir down, letting him grow to his normal size for both his safety and hers. She arrived down in the vault just in time to hear Thor ranting. She slipped up behind Loki, Fenrir guarding the door, and clutched the hem of Loki's tunic in her hands. He glanced back at her and extended his hand slightly to the side in a gesture of protection.

"You are thinking only as a Warrior!" Odin said, growing impatient.

"This was an act of war!" Thor insisted, and Loki looked back at her with that justified look that she resented.

"It was the act of a few, doomed to fail," Odin corrected, and Loki sent her another look. She wasn't buying it.

"They got this far!" Thor exclaimed in growing anger.

"We will find the breach in our defenses. It will be found, and it will be sealed," Odin tried to placate Thor, still unruffled. Loki poked her that time.

"As King of Asgard, I would-"

"You are not King, not yet," Odin replied a little more frostily, and Thor stared for a moment before storming out, Fenrir stepping aside from the door to let him pass.

Odin looked to Loki and Willow with a weary sigh. "I thought he would be ready," he admitted quietly, sadly, and Loki poked her again.

"We wish he were, Father. He would make a great King," Loki replied smoothly.

"How would they have entered? Heimdall would have seen them," Odin said, turning towards the door.

Willow poked Loki violently this time, and he flinched away from her hand. "I let them in, Father," Loki admitted, and Odin whirled on Loki with fury on his face.

"You!" he bellowed. Willow was almost shocked at the transformation, though Loki seemed unruffled. "How _dare_ you!"

Fenrir leaped between Odin and Loki, bristling. "I wanted to stop Thor from having the throne when he was clearly not ready," Loki's voice was a little harder.

Odin paused, then surveyed Loki with his one eye. "You have started events that cannot be stopped," he said harshly, and stared at Fenrir with anger. "And call off your whelp."

Willow huffed at that, stepping forwards to drag Fenrir towards her. Odin's glare turned to her as well. "You knew of Loki's plans," he accused, and Willow froze.

"He told me only the idea of what he planned to do," she replied stiffly.

"You did not see fit to tell me?" he demanded.

"I do not agree that Thor is ready for leadership of a nation," she argued back. "Would you listen to me, a nobody, when you would not listen to your son or wife? I have already angered you once by defending my nephew; I will not rouse your temper again by expressing an opinion that will not be heard."

"Then you have failed," he pointed his staff at her. "You have conspired with Loki against the throne of Asgard. This shall not go unpunished," his voice was hard before he turned and strode out.

"Father-" Loki began to go after Odin, but Willow clutched at his tunic.

"Loki, no, leave it for now," she pleaded. "Haven't you done enough? It is stopped - now you must deal with the consequences. You know he'll do something rash," she tried, and he turned to her in frustration.

"He is threatening to banish you for treason!" he snapped.

"Maybe it'll blow over!" she sniped back, then placed a hand on her forehead and wavered. "Please Loki, go do damage control," she begged weakly.

"You are ill again." Loki grabbed her arm while Fenrir propped her up.

"I'll be fine," she insisted, pulling herself away. "Just go!"

He wavered before gritting his teeth and backing away, finally leaving. Willow waited until she was sure he was gone before looking back at the Destroyer one more time, moving out into the hallways with Fenrir and making her way to Loki's room. She knew now why Odin had been so unreasonably angry. Most likely he had been afraid that Loki knew of his Jötun heritage and had sided with them. Stumbling into the room, she took a moment to steady herself, ignoring her fever, and changed into a pair of dark leggings with one of Loki's green tunics before grabbing an old cloak and swinging it around her shoulders. Fenrir looked at her curiously.

"C'mon, Fen," she whispered, hauling herself on top of him. "Think you can get us to the Observatory unnoticed?" she asked, and saw him bare his teeth in a grin before leaping off of the balcony. She stifled a shriek and hung on for dear life as he took the back streets and shadowy paths toward the Rainbow Bridge. Once he was finally there, he paused and slowed to let her gape in awe at the sight of the colors. He finally entered the Observatory, and Willow saw that Heimdall was waiting, facing them. Legs shaking, she slid down from Fenrir and made her way towards the gatekeeper.

"Sir," she said politely, though her voice trembled.

"You have come for a purpose," he intoned, and Willow nodded jerkily. His unnaturally orange eyes burned into her, and she noticed that underneath the chinks of his armor was a brilliant sparkling.

"I come to explain and ask a favor," she said quietly.

"Speak." His hard demeanor loosened slightly, and she took in a breath while Fenrir stood next to her.

"Loki took a hidden path to bring the Jötuns. I'm sure you have already heard why," she referred to his unlimited hearing and sight. He nodded calmly. "You know that they are coming to ask for passage into Jötunheim." She felt weary already. Another nod. "Then I need not explain why I would ask you to grant them passage."

"This venture that you undertake is difficult. I see your burden and your struggle, Willow Stark," he said, and Willow started. "I saw you die on Midgard, and I saw you fall from the sky above the palace. I know not where you come from or who you are, but I know that you carry knowledge that keeps the universe in balance," he went on, and Willow suddenly knew that she had found an ally. "Nevertheless, I would have let them through even without your intervention."

She nodded. "I know, but it was an excuse to ask if you knew where I came from... I suppose I have my answer." Her shoulders slumped as she drew the ragged cloak around her shoulders more tightly.

"I cannot see what has been purposefully concealed from my sight," he replied, and she realized that it was an apology.

"Thank you anyway," she said, and stiffened as she heard footsteps and hoofbeats approach.

"Stand beside the door, and leave once they enter," Heimdall commanded, and she did as she was told without another word, trusting that he would somehow shield her from sight. As soon as the party entered, Willow slipped out with Fenrir and fled back to the palace. Fenrir got her there within a matter of minutes, and Willow took off for the throne room in a sprint. She burst past the guards and into the room, gathering attention from Odin and the other guards and lords.

Willow dropped before the steps of the throne, sucking in air. "AllFather, Thor has taken Loki and Sif and the Warriors Three to Jötunheim to confront the Frost Giants!" she gasped desperately. Odin immediately stood, fairly bristling in anger.

"You!" he snarled at her. "You and Loki both have caused this madness. You will come with me to the Bifrost." He pointed a finger at her, then strode down the steps toward the door. Willow, despite her increasing weakness, scrambled onto Fenrir who trotted after the King.

She waited as Sleipnir was saddled as fast as possible, the large, eight-legged black horse nuzzling his brother Fenrir before galloping to the Rainbow Bridge, Willow in tow. Once they arrived, Odin made swift demands of Heimdall, who still had his sword in the pedestal. Heimdall didn't so much as glance at her, while Odin turned again in front of the Bifrost.

"You will stay here until I return." He pointed his staff at her sternly, and she slid off of Fenrir to sit on the lower steps of the pedestal. Heimdall turned the sword, and Odin was gone. Willow wrung her hands in despair, small and bitter tears dropping onto her lap as Fenrir shrank into her lap.

"He will banish you," Heimdall stated, eyes still fixed on the Bifrost.

Willow laughed bitterly. "I know," she replied, clutching Fenrir as he began to whine with concern at the thought. "I know. It's about time for me to leave anyway... but I don't want to leave," she wept. "Big brother..."

Heimdall said nothing, and approximately twenty minutes later the Bifrost roared back to life, bringing along with it Odin and the others. Loki looked startled to see her, then faintly relieved. She refused to look him in the eye.

"Do you realize what you've done? What you've started?" Odin demanded.

"I was protecting my home," Thor answered heatedly.

"You cannot protect your friends. How can you hope to protect your people?" Odin turned to the other four. "Get him to the healing room," he barked, and they hurried out to get a groaning Fandral to a healing room.

"There won't be a kingdom to protect if you're afraid to act! Whatever the cost, the world must know that the new King of Asgard will not be held in contempt!" Thor declared.

"That is pride and vanity that talks, not leadership! Have you forgotten everything I've taught you? What of a warrior's patience, cunning?" Odin replied, glancing slightly at Loki.

"While you wait and be patient, the Nine Realms laugh at us! The old ways are done. You'd stand giving speeches while Asgard falls!" Thor roared.

"You're a vain, greedy, cruel boy!"

Willow thought that sounded rather pettish, though it was said in reprimand.

"And you are an old man and a fool!" Thor snapped back just as childishly, fuming, and Loki and Willow exchanged faintly horrified looks as the world seemed to stop.

"A fool, yes! I was a fool to think you were ready," Odin sounded sad and wearied, and Willow knew that he was fighting Odinsleep. Loki took a step forward.

"Father-" he tried pleadingly, and was cut off by a savage snarl from Odin. Loki stepped back in visible shock.

"Thor Odinson... You have disobeyed the express command of your King. Through your arrogance and stupidity, you have opened these peaceful Realms and innocent lives to the horrors of war," Odin began his banishment, plunging his staff into the Bifrost and beginning to gear it up. Willow felt dizziness began to descend on her as Odin stripped Thor from his armor and status. Mjolnir flew to Odin's hand as Thor was sucked into the Bifrost, and Loki and Willow sat there in shock and silence as Odin placed a new spell upon the hammer before hurling it after the disappeared Crown Prince.

Then he turned to Willow, who stood with Fenrir in her arms, walking calmly towards the Bifrost. Loki snapped out of his shock. "Father-"

"You, Willow Friggadottir and Fenrir Lokison, I hereby banish from Asgard for a time to think upon your actions," Odin said just as sternly as with Thor. "Until such a time as peace has been restored to these lands, you shall not enter Asgard as punishment for your part in bringing this about, and for your insolence against my rulings," he declared, and Willow inclined her head.

"May I bid my brother goodbye before I leave?" she asked quietly, and Odin nodded curtly. Loki looked distraught.

"Willow-"

Willow set Fenrir down, wrapping her arms around Loki's waist and burying her face into his chest. "Big brother," she cut him off, and then pulled him down to her level. "Loki, it's okay. You need to take care of this. You need to make it right," she said too quietly for Odin to hear, though she knew Heimdall could. She forced Loki to look her in the eye. "You know I love you, right?" she asked firmly, and after a moment, he nodded reluctantly.

"He does love you, he's just terrible at showing it. My Dad was the same." She cupped his face in her palms, dearly hoping she was right. "Please don't hate him too much. He's just doing what he thinks is best." That, she knew. She hesitated a moment before looking down at his arm and placing her hand on it. "It doesn't matter to me who or what you are," she whispered softly, and saw his eyes jerk up to hers. "I _don't care_ ," she emphasized. "You're my brother, and I love you because you are _Loki_. Goodbye for now, Big Brother," she said waveringly, then picked Fenrir up and stepped away.

"Wait-!" Loki reached out, but Willow stepped into the Bifrost without another glance back. Yelling erupted behind her, but all she knew was the roar in her ears and the sound of a familiar lullaby.


	8. Dreams, Drama, Dilemma

_Yeah so, one word. College._

 _Sorry guys, it's been a while, I know. Here's your chapter. I can't promise consistent updates because I have to juggle college and work and life at the same time. So yeah. But anyway, I present the next chapter! Thanks as always to my incredible beta, Madcinder. Without her, this wouldn't be as amazing as it is._

 _Please, read!_

 _Enjoy!_

 _Review!_

* * *

Landing with a jarring jolt was _not_ what Willow would have called pleasant. As it was, the first thing her mind flashed to was Fenrir, and she looked down in a panic at her arms. To her relief, Fenrir was still clasped to her, looking very confused and rather disoriented.

"Hey Fen," she said in a small voice, and saw him look up at her, grey eyes flooding with recognition and relief. She set him down as he grew, regaining his balance.

"Where are we?" he spoke for the first time.

"I wish Father would tell me," she groused.

 **Be at peace, Fenrir Lokison, my child. All is well. Things will proceed as they are meant to.** The Voice appeared again, making Fenrir start. Everything around them was grey again.

"That's my Father, the one who made me. I don't really know who he is yet, though," Willow explained.

Fenrir sidled close to her side, eyes wary. "I can come to conclusions. But where are we?"

 **You are in a place where no one can see you but I. There is no reason to fear. You have done well, my dear.**

Willow sat down, curling herself up in a fetal position. "But Loki..." Fenrir sat beside her.

 **He must choose his own path, now. It is not in your hands any longer.** The Voice replied firmly but kindly.

"Are you going to send me away again?" Willow asked, and Fenrir's ears perked up.

 **Yes, but not now. You need rest.** The Voice answered. **And you as well, Lokison.**

"I will stay with her," Fenrir growled mistrustfully.

 **As you will.** Voice agreed. **Now rest.**

Willow fell into an exhausted sleep, curled up by Fenrir's side.

* * *

"WILLOW I SWEAR IF YOU CAN HEAR ME I NEED HELP THEY'RE GONNA DO IT AGAIN AND I WANNA KILL 'EM ALL-"

"Ah!" Willow yelped loudly, stumbling backwards and tripping right over something she couldn't identify - right into Bucky. She stared up at him as he stared back down at her. Then his face lit up and he grabbed her in a tight hug, sitting down and holding her, burying his face into her shoulder.

"They're doing it again," he whispered. "I was so close, Willow. So close."

Willow curled up in his lap as well, clutching his shirt and saying nothing. He went on. "It was just a few days after you left. Now they've done it again," he said, wincing and clinging to her tightly. "Don't go this time. I need to remember."

"We'll see each other again one day," she said softly. "I promise, Bucky."

"You know, Doll, you never did tell me how you know," he suddenly said.

"Don't ask, Bucky. It's a story we don't have time for," she replied, patting his chest. "Just remember. Trees, Bucky. Trees. Every time they let you out, trees. Trees means Eagles. Eagles mean America. America needs a captain. Captain America is Steve Rogers 'cause freedom," she elaborated, and he nodded, face serious.

"I'll remember," he promised. "By the way, they've opened a new initiative called the Red Room where they're training girls to be assassins." He frowned. "I'm training them, and there's this one girl. Her name is Natasha, Natasha Romanoff. She's gonna be the best, and I can't let that happen. Not for them," he said in frustration.

Willow hid the spike of excitement that pulsed through her. Black Widow! "Then make her a protege in more than one way," she laughed lightly. "She sounds like a good one."

"Well I would if I could ever stay under the radar long enough," he growled. "But I can't, Willow, I can't. I try and they put me in the blender before I can even realize what messed me up that time," he sighed.

Now as Willow looked up at him, she realized how terrible he truly looked. His hair was long and tangled, his blue eyes were dull and clouded, and his face was haggard and had stubble everywhere. Pain shot through her like nothing else.

"What scares me is the thought that maybe one day I'll actually meet you outside of my mind, and then what? I won't know you! I might try to kill you! I can't live like that, Willow," he exclaimed in frustration. "I need to find Steve... let him know I'm alive..."

Another wave of pain. "You'll know me," she whispered softly. "No matter how many times they put you back under, you'll know me. And when you find Steve, you'll know him. Believe it, Bucky," she pleaded. "They can't take away your memories without your consent. They can suppress them, but not wipe them."

He just shook his head and sat there, still holding her like a lifeline. "If you find me, take care of me," he suddenly said. "If I don't recognize you, take care of it. Just end it," he finally said wearily. "I don't want to live if I can't recognize the people I love the most."

Willow shook her head adamantly. " _No_ , James Buchanan Barnes, I will do _no_ such thing," she fairly hissed at him. "Don't do that to yourself. Every time the Winter Soldier does something, there are two victims involved; the one behind the gun and the one in front of it," she said sternly.

He didn't even answer, slumping over her, and Willow felt very, very afraid. If he was already like this, what would he be like by the time they got further in the timeline? Where - or when - would she be sent next? With who? Would she be able to be there when they found Bucky? The thought hurt her badly. What of Loki? Would he be there? Could they fix things? Could she manage everything?

"Doll?" Bucky sounded worried, and Willow realized that she was crying on his neck. She laughed shakily, wiping her eyes.

"It's nothing." She tried to wave it off, but he reared back and looked at her.

"That's _not_ nothin'. Tell me what's going on, Willow," he said sternly. Willow thought about not telling him, but took one look at his face and realized that he needed something to think about other than what he was physically being forced to do at the moment.

She sighed heavily. "I... I just lost someone I care about very much. Not permanently, but I won't be able to see him for a while, and I..." She looked past his shoulder forlornly. "I'm worried about him."

He stiffened. " _Him_?" Bucky suddenly sounded very, very scary, and Willow swiftly backtracked.

"Whoa, Bucky, no, _no_ ," she said, horrified. "Don't do that, he's my big brother - literally, Bucky, I'm adopted," she blurted, and was relieved when he relaxed, the murderous look fading from his eyes. Willow swallowed and mentally reminded herself _never_ to _ever_ mention any potential crush around Bucky or Fenrir or Loki.

"Oh, well that's..." He frowned. "Not alright. I'm supposed to be your adopted brother." He squinted at her.

"You are," she replied promptly. "You and him and Steve," she said in satisfaction. "All my boys," she laughed lightly.

"You pick 'em up left and right, huh Doll?" he laughed back, and she felt her heart crack slightly.

"Yea," she whispered back. They sat there in silence for a while.

"Y'know, I think I've forgotten a few things," he finally admitted quietly. "I don't remember if I had anyone back home," he said distantly.

"You didn't," she reassured gently. "You were too busy looking down alleys for Steve," she said with a faint laugh. He grinned back tiredly.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. He used to wear newspapers in his shoes," he chuckled, and Willow swore she heard her heart break.

"Yeah," her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat.

"I'm tired, Willow," Bucky suddenly said. "Whenever my brain gets scrambled... I forget. I even forget that I'm a person. But when you come back, it gets a little easier to remember again. What am I supposed to do if I lose too much? Steve will do stupid stuff, 'cause he can't take care of himself..." he was mumbling by now, falling asleep from sheer exhaustion.

Willow gently tugged him over so they were laying down side by side, her head buried in his chest. "You're right," she replied just as sleepily. "He will do stupid stuff... but he'll manage. Just barely. You need to find him, Bucky. 'Cause even if I get there first, I can't do what you can..." she yawned, feeling him pull her closer and curling up into a ball so that she was sheltered.

"I will," he muttered, eyes closed. "I'll find him."

They fell asleep, a tangle of arms and limbs.

* * *

"You are crushing me," an unimpressed voice said, and Willow shot up, latching onto the figure.

"Loki!" she cried, relief washing over her as her face buried into soft skin. "Big brother..."

"Little Sapling," Loki replied, but she heard a new and odd undertone in his voice, and looked up. To meet red eyes, blue skin, and skin markings like a tribal tattoo. For a moment she stared, then smiled.

"You know, some people on Midgard would love to naturally look like that," she laughed, though her heart was heavy.

Loki stared down at her as though she was deranged. "I am a monster. Why would you-"

"Now you're just being stupid," she scoffed, not letting go of his tunic and burying her face into his blue and cold neck again. "I told you before, I don't care what you look like or what you are, I care about _you._ About _Loki_ , my big brother that I love," she insisted.

"How did you know?" Loki asked after a moment. "Before you left you said-"

"Loki, no one I know has body temperature colder than I do. Any other Aesir would have higher body temperature than Midgardians because of their physical makeup, but you don't. And you look nothing like Thor or Odin or Mother. It's a conclusion I made from just knowing you, though you do definitely take after Mother in everything else," she snickered. "And anyway, now that you know and I know, what does it matter?" she asked cheerfully, then popped up again more seriously. "What's happening?" she asked gravely.

Loki stared at her for a moment, then seemingly wilted. "Father is in Odinsleep, and since Thor is banished, I have taken up the throne." He looked at her and she saw the exhaustion and struggle in his eyes. "I do not want Gungnir, Willow," he said quietly. "I may have wished for the throne once, but I wish no longer. Laufey has declared war on us, and I have made a plan with Mother to stop him," he went on, placing a hand on her head.

"Tell me," she demanded, sitting on his lap more properly and looking up into his face.

"I plan to pose as a traitor to Asgard after finding my true heritage, going to Laufey and proposing a deal," he started, "I will bring him and his troops into Asgard through the hidden path, and have ready warriors stationed everywhere to fight them off within the palace. Once he is killed, which I plan to do myself," his eyes darkened slightly, "then they will have to surrender. Meanwhile, I must try to send the Destroyer to Midgard to both hasten Thor's lesson and to continue looking like a traitor if anyone chose to look close enough," he finished wearily, then let out a sour laugh. "Yes, my little Sapling, I shall be a monster indeed."

"Don't say that, big Brother," Willow pleaded, placing a hand on his cheek even while her heart thumped in happiness at the turn of events. Or was it? Had this been the whole ruse from the beginning, and there just hadn't been anyone who knew before Loki had fallen into the hands of Thanos? "You will do what any King is supposed to do for their people," she said softly.

"I do not wish to be the King that Odin was," he said stiffly, and she patted his chest.

"Then be the King that you want him to be, while you have the chance," she replied softly, leaning against him again.

"How is Fenrir?" Loki asked after a moment, and Willow nodded.

"He's fine. Resting," she replied simply.

"I could rescind the banishment," he said eventually. Willow smiled but shook her head.

"I think, with the way things are, that we are better off banished," she said wryly. "Perhaps Odin knew what he was doing, sending us away from danger," she offered, and felt him go still at the thought. Then his hand landed on her head.

"I suppose," was his only answer, though she knew that it was still a great concession for him to say so. "Where did he send you?" he asked, but Willow merely laughed.

"I'm the Dreamer, Loki," she replied wickedly. "And dreams are everywhere and anywhere."

He sighed, but his lips twitched slightly as he looked at her. "Very well. Play your little game." He patted her head as she pouted at him.

"Not the hair," she warned.

He ruffled it anyway, while she mewled in protest and batted his hand away. He chuckled.

"Be safe, big Brother, okay?" she finally asked, closing her eyes as a lullaby drifted across her senses.

"Don't worry for me," was his haughty reply.

Oh, if only he knew, Willow mourned before she fell asleep.

* * *

Willow woke up with a start again, blinking as she realized that she was safe, tucked against Fenrir in the surrounding grayness. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes and yawned, stretching carefully. Fenrir opened one eye to look at her, and she smiled as she petedt his nose.

 **You have slept for quite a while.** The Voice sounded amused.

Willow's face scrunched as she turned to Fenrir. "Did I?" she asked.

 **He did as well.** Voice answered for him. **Both of you were asleep for approximately a week by my time.**

"A week!?" Willow almost shouted, while Fenrir winced. She petted his nose apologetically. "Why?"

 **Your emotions are rather amok, the both of you. Your bodies are trying to make you stop and fix yourself.**

Willow turned around, crossing her arms. "I deal with my much and very and confused and bad and good and tangled emotions in a healthy way. The Stark way," she grumbled rebelliously. "The Loki way."

The Voice chuckled. **Hence why you fall asleep for a week.** He sounded chiding. **But I cannot force you to do anything.** He sighed. **It is time.**

"Before we go, can you please allow Fenrir to change size as he wishes, not just me?" Willow called, and a moment later Fenrir was shrinking and hopping into her lap without her making it happen. "Thanks," she added happily, and clutched him in her arms.

"You ready, Fen?" she asked.

"I will go with you," he answered stolidly.

"I guess we're ready, then," Willow sighed.

 **So be it. Now rest.**

Willow was getting very tired of this lullaby business. It was as annoying as sleeping gas or clichéd fainting.

* * *

"Hello? Hello, miss?" a soft, concerned voice was calling. "Wake up, please, it's not safe here for you," the voice went on, and Willow could have sworn that she knew that voice as well. It was gentle and unassuming, but so authoritative...

A moment later, her eyes had snapped open and she rolled away, sitting up in a protective ball while she searched for Fenrir. The Wolf was in front of her, snarling at the man while growing into a normal sized wolf. The figure he was growling at paused, before his hands raised and he slowly backed away.

"Who are you?" Willow asked, wondering desperately where she was. When she glanced down at herself, she realized that she looked like a homeless person: a complete and total mess.

"My name is Phil. I just want to help you," the man explained calmly, as though he wasn't being threatened by a vicious wolf.

Willow paused, then shuffled forwards to place a calming hand on Fenrir's ruff. "Phil? Phil Coulson?" she asked warily. Fenrir's nostrils widened and his eyes glanced over at her, and she nodded discreetly. She could almost smell the man's spike of curiosity as well.

"I am. You have heard of me, then," he said in the same bland tone, but there was no malice in it. Reassured, Willow patted Fenrir and he backed down. She shuffled forwards slightly, more into the light, and saw by his face that he was indeed the incredible Agent Phil Coulson.

"Wh-what do you want?" she asked warily while Fenrir still stood guard by her side, though relaxed.

"I was passing by when I saw someone in this alley. It's not safe here, so I thought I'd give you a hand," he replied.

Willow hesitated, then realized that hey, this was _Phil Coulson_ so obviously she was meant to be here, right? "How?" she asked with a sudden inkling of suspicion.

"Take you to my house, give you a bath and some better clothes, for a start, if that's what you'd like," he said, lowering his arms. Fenrir said and did nothing, leaving it to her.

"Why would you do that?" she asked, trying to keep up a wary front to avoid suspicion by being too trusting of him.

"I have a tendency to take in strays," he chuckled self-deprecatingly, and Willow gave in. After all, he'd had two specific _strays_ that she knew of...

"Alright," she said quietly, scooting forwards. "Thanks."

He stood up slowly, walking to the car at the mouth of the alley and opening the back door. She climbed in, motioning for Fenrir. After a split second, he jumped in and shrank, sitting on her lap and looking at the interior of the car. The door closed, and she stroked Fenrir to calm him.

"It's alright Fen, Thor knows him and trusts him," she whispered too low for Coulson to hear as he slid in the front seat and began to drive away. Fenrir relaxed a little more, to her relief.

"So I'm assuming you heard of me from somewhere?" Coulson gently prodded, his tone saying that he would not press if she refused to answer.

"Yea. A... friend of mine," she hazarded.

"That's good then," he retreated, sensing that that was all he was going to get for the time being. "What did they say? I'm kind of wondering what kind of reputation I have," he chuckled again, and Willow allowed herself a smile.

"I've heard a lot about you. Mostly good things, so you don't have to worry. Fen wouldn't trust anyone I wouldn't," she hinted subtly. She was, of course, taking his mention of strays to guess the timeline. She hoped Thor had met Phil, at any rate.

"That's gratifying," Coulson remarked. "I don't mean to pry, but can I guess that you're a mutant? I've worked with a few before," he added calmingly. Willow paused, then decided that it was as good a story as any.

"Yeah," she finally replied without hostility or defensiveness. "Been on the streets for a while," she shrugged, looking out the window.

"You didn't meet any others who could have helped?" Coulson asked with some concern, glancing back at her through the mirror.

"I... I don't want to join others," she finally admitted, thinking fast. "I... I'm scared of being recognized," she muttered, looking down self-consciously. And it was perfectly true. She knew that her face had similar contours to Tony Stark, and despite the gold streak in her hair, her hair was still dark, making a high chance that speculation might arise. She didn't really count on Tony noticing, but he might. If he got her journal, he might make conclusions for himself.

To Phil's credit, he didn't ask. "Well, that can't be helped. Here we are: my apartment," he said, pulling into a huge complex and in front of a tall building with glass windows. He parked and got out, opening the door for her before she could. She got out holding Fenrir, who looked around with more curiosity that she could understand.

Willow tilted her head. "Lucky strays," she commented mischievously, earning a startled laugh from Phil.

"Thank you. Come on, we'll go. It's pretty late, so no one will see you." He headed towards the front doors, and Willow followed feeling appreciative of his sensitivity.

They passed through heavy security, passcode and everything, before entering an elevator and going up to the twelfth floor. Willow looked down at herself and frowned. Fenrir's fur was still smooth but in need of a wash, while she looked like a scruffy mutt with a tattered tunic and leggings and mussed hair. For the Norn's sake, she'd only been asleep for a week! Hadn't she?

If Phil noticed her disgust, he didn't say anything. The elevator doors opened and they stepped through, entering a large and comfortable apartment. Willow suddenly stepped aside, looking up at a large painting of Captain America. Wistful nostalgia flashed through her, and she quickly shook her head and looked away to avoid the impending tears. She hurried silently after Phil, who had entered the kitchen.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, tossing a briefcase and his keys onto the counter. "While you're in the shower I was planning on making something," he said, rustling around in the fridge. Willow felt slightly uncomfortable being so dirty in such a pristine atmosphere.

"U-um, yes please. Anything would be nice," she admitted, her stomach pinching angrily.

He popped back up, placing stuff on the counter. "You mind waffles and bacon?" he asked, bringing out a waffle maker that was in the shape of a certain shield. Willow stifled a laugh.

"Sounds good," she said genuinely, smiling despite herself.

"Great! Shower's over there, towels and everything you can find. Take your time," he said, pointing down a hallway. "Afraid I don't really have wolf shampoo, though," he said mildly, looking at Fenrir.

Willow grinned. "It's okay, but thanks," she replied, moving down the hall.

"Oh, and just go in the nearest room and grab something from the closet," Phil called after her.

She entered the bathroom without a word, quickly jumping into the shower with Fenrir. He grew slightly, enjoying the warm water. "We are on Midgard?" he finally asked as they finished the shower, and Willow nodded.

"Yes," she replied quietly, wrapping a towel around herself. "And Phil is a good man," she added.

"I do not pretend to know why we are here, but I will gladly fulfill my wergild and protect you," Fenrir said, and Willow crouched to kiss his nose.

"I ask nothing from you, Fen, because I only did what I would do for any of my family. But love I can accept," she answered, and he nuzzled her back trustingly.

Then she padded quietly into the next room, finding it empty of personal items though the closet had female clothes in it. Perhaps Natasha's room-? If she visited him? Willow suddenly had a thought and clutched the shirt and sweatpants she had chosen close to her, swallowing. How long had it been for Bucky since she had last visited him? She realized that time within the grayness was very different from other places, and she had to force herself to not panic. Bucky wouldn't be mad at her for not visiting... He'd understand...

Her hands shook, nevertheless, as she slipped on the slightly-large clothes and went back to the kitchen with Fenrir trailing behind. His fur had dried quickly with the towel, surprisingly, so he wasn't dripping everywhere. Phil slid her a plate with three waffles, a pile of bacon, and a cup of milk on the side. Her stomach growling, she started to eat neatly out of habit.

She was painfully aware that every movement and every word she made would be assessed, but she was trying to be careful and as truthful as possible while still trusting Phil. She was trying to drop subtle hints here and there, goading him to realize that she kinda wanted to be known. But secretly. She had faith that he'd catch on sooner or later.

"Thank you," she sighed in contentment, unable to finish the entire meal but still managing quite a huge chunk of it.

Phil nodded in satisfaction at what she had eaten. "You looked like you needed it. You tired?" he asked, and Willow curled up as best she could on her stool.

"I'm sure you are," she replied tentatively. "I don't think I'll be sleeping for a while," she admitted.

He gave her a careful but sympathetic look. "How about a bed, then?" he asked, and she nodded gratefully.

"I'll just... Stay on it till morning," she replied meekly.

"Alright then." He led her towards a room, and she noticed that it was the one she'd guessed at being Natasha's. "Here, you can use this one. Use the clothes in the closet, by the way, they're just spares of a friend of mine," he said, and she ushered Fenrir in.

"Thank you so much, sir," she said with a grateful smile, and he just smiled back.

"Sleep well-" he hesitated, and Willow's eyes widened.

"Sorry! My name is Willow. Willow Freya," she threw in for good measure. Phil nodded.

"Good night, Willow." And he left.

Willow closed the door quietly, hopping onto the bed and curling up in a ball. She didn't want to fall asleep. She didn't want to dream again. Hunching up into a miserable little ball, she leaned against Fenrir, who slept lightly and quietly. Honestly, she was rather frightened. She trusted Coulson, but unless she could get someone - preferably her brother, though she hadn't the faintest idea _how_ \- to protect her legally, she was vulnerable to SHIELD. It wasn't comforting, considering what she knew.

Yeah, she had Fenrir, but he could only do so much while he was still growing and she didn't even know the limits of her magic without Loki or some other magic-wielder to tutor her. So all-in-all, she was scared. Not to mention, if Natasha or Clint happened to meet her, she knew darn well that she would not hold up to one of their assessments. Loki wasn't as good as Nat, apparently (though she still doubted it), and he had seen through her pretty well. She was well and truly done for, she thought morosely.

She debated sleeping, wondering if she would meet Loki or Bucky, then decided almost a second later that she would never be able to fall asleep. She was too tense and worried, and too busy trying to figure out how to save herself and get Coulson to take her under his wing. She knew that however kind he might be, he was someone who wasn't to be trifled with at any cost, and would put duty first over sympathy.

It was too bad that she didn't know if they'd found Steve yet. If she knew, she might be able to tell - wait.

Going over calculations in her head, Willow tried to figure it out. If she had 'died' in 1943, Steve was about 21 by then. If he had been under the ice for sixty-seven years, then that made... 2010. That's when he was unfrozen. Willow's gaze drifted to the door. If she just knew what year it was then she might be able to figure something out. She _knew_ Steve, and she knew he knew her. He'd protect her, she hoped, but would that be enough? That would just open a whole new can of worms!

By the time Willow looked at the digital clock beside her bed, she noticed with shock that it was already six in the morning. Shaking her head, she slid off the bed as Fenrir opened his eyes and jumped off to join her, stretching. Pressing her ear to the door, she heard silverware clinking and nodded in relief. She opened the door and let Fenrir out first, who sniffed the air before padding towards the kitchen. Satisfied, Willow followed after. Fury could be a sneaky snake sometimes.

"Good morning," Phil's voice was as softly unassuming as ever, and it was driving Willow crazy. It was so _disarming_ when she couldn't afford it to be. Fenrir sat next to her stool.

"Morning," she answered just as quietly.

"Not sure what your wolf eats. Maybe a bit of steak?" Phil asked curiously, sliding her a plate of pancakes with syrup, butter, and more bacon. Willow looked down at Fenrir, who tilted his head back.

"I think he'd like to try," she replied with a smile, tucking into the food. "Thanks," she added, and he nodded while pulling a couple t-bones out of the freezer.

"Eat up. I'll make a couple for lunch too," he said, and Willow hummed as she glanced down at Fenrir. She finished soon after, and began to wash her dishes as Fenrir watched curiously.

"Sleep well?" Phil asked mildly, and she turned off the tap, drying her hands.

"More like sat well," she replied with a snort, returning to her stool. He gave her a sympathetic smile.

"Bad memories happen with everyone," he said. "Especially mutants, with the unpredictability of their skills," he added, drying his hands as well before choosing another stool to sit on and wait for the steak. "Would you mind if I asked what's yours?"

Willow gave him a raised eyebrow. "You expect me to tell a SHIELD agent what my skill set is?" she asked wryly.

"Telepathy, then?" he asked, a wider smile on his face.

"Guess again," she answered, because hang it all she wanted him to know. He was the only one right now that she knew.

"Hmm... Teleportation? Telekinesis? Or communication with animals?" he guessed, and Willow smirked.

"Nope. One more try," she said, leaning against the counter.

"Time travel," he said, and Willow stopped short. She hadn't given anything away with what she'd said before, had she? Where had this come from?

Phil observed the look on her face. "I don't think anyone looks at a picture of Captain America and turns nostalgic," he said quietly. He would know. Willow suddenly smiled, and she thought for a moment that Phil looked caught off guard.

"I wondered when you'd cotton on," she said blandly. He sighed.

"You gave a few rather broad hints," he replied, and she laughed.

"I was kind of hoping that you'd let me know it was a safe place to talk." She gave him a sudden, piercing look.

"It's my private apartment. No bugs, I make sure of it every week, and no cameras," he reassured, picking up his cup of coffee on the counter.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions," she deflated, looking down at her hands. Fenrir had laid down, but his ears were pricked in obvious interest.

"Am I allowed to ask?" Phil replied simply but meaningfully.

Willow paused for a moment, lips pursed. "You know," she finally said slowly, "I've heard a lot about you." She looked back at him. "I know what you did for Thor." She gauged his reactions carefully, impressed when she saw nothing. "I know who you are and where you work. I know who the other two strays are that you picked up. I know about your vintage card set of my Captain, which I approve of, frankly." A ghost of a smile passed over her lips, and she saw a slightly ashen hue in his cheeks. "I know that you're wondering how I know. You're not quite there when you say I'm a Time Traveler; but you're pretty close in some ways. Would it be enough if I told you that above all people I could go to in the universe, you're one of the top five on my list?" she asked, looking him straight in the eye.

Phil sat there for a moment, looking back into her eyes as the seconds ticked away. Then, "Why?" his voice was quiet, thoughtful.

"Many reasons," she replied with a smile. "But maybe because I'm a stray that needs help and you're known for picking up strays," she said significantly, and he took another sip from his cup.

"I'm not sure anything would surprise me now," he admitted, and she laughed.

"That's what I said," she grinned, and earned a smile in reply. "Ask away."

He visibly thought about it. "How do you know?" he then asked simply, and Willow's smile broadened.

"Trust you to hit it on the head," she said amusedly. "Well... that's classified information. I'd like to keep it that way," she said mildly, but there was an undertone in her voice that she'd learned from Loki.

"That backs me in a corner, doesn't it?" Phil chuckled slightly. "There's nothing I can really do to make you believe me either way."

"True," Willow replied with humor. "But there's always a risk we have to make and I'm betting that this one won't backfire on me too much."

"I'm honored," but there was a genuine note in his voice.

"You won't be once I'm done," and all the levity left. "This doesn't sound suspicious at all, but what do you know of the Starks?" she asked, retrieving herself a cup of milk and a saucer of it for Fenrir, who eagerly began to lap at it.

Phil looked into his cup. "Well, Anthony Edward Stark is the current owner of Stark Industries and known as Iron Man to the world. His father was Howard Stark, who helped to build Project Rebirth for the making of the super-soldier serum that was given to Steve Rogers before Erskine died," he replied, and Willow almost snickered at the detail, though her face remained impassive.

"Thank you. Anything else?" she asked mildly.

"There were rumors that Howard had another child, but there's only so much that we could find about her. Apparently she died in the war," he replied, giving her an inscrutable look.

"I think by that look you know where I'm going with this," she deadpanned, and Phil shook his head.

"How?" was his only question, and now he sounded interested.

Willow swiveled in her stool, looking towards the wall calendar above the couch. It was May of 2010, she realized, and looked down at her body. Apparently, time had been askew for her because she looked no more than eighteen. She turned back to Phil. "I turned eighteen this month," she said softly. "But I suppose, technically, that I should be considered 85 years old."

Phil looked at her in dawning recognition. "My name is Willow Stark," she sighed. "I am the biological half sister of Tony Stark, and I was Howard's daughter and assistant during the war. I supposedly died and was even buried in November of 1943, after completing my dream to see Steve turned into Captain America and being named an honorary member of the Howling Commandos. I was also the first mutant of my time, though no one knew that. I died because my body was struggling with my mutation that apparently manifested in the form of some kind of advanced leukemia or cancer, and was a patient of Doctor Erskine," her voice wavered slightly at the thought of the kindly German man who had done so much. "By a series of events, I'm also the adopted sister of Thor, Willow Friggadottir," she finished, and ran her hand over her face with a calming sip of milk. "Fen is my family." She nodded to the Wolf, who growled and nudged her leg.

Phil seemed to be digesting it. "I take it back, there are some things that can surprise me," he finally managed, and Willow let out a slightly hysterical laugh.

"I need your help, sir," she begged. "I don't know how to approach my brother or if he'll even accept me, and I miss my Captain very much. I know that you're probably off work today because Director Fury gave you leave while they were getting him out of the ice," there was a distinctly wild edge in her tone. "I don't have anyone to protect me, and I don't know what else to do. I was banished from Asgard along with Fen, and we don't have any other place to go," she groaned.

Phil sighed, looking down into his cup. "Why is it always me with the weird strays?" he asked it morosely.

"I would take offense if I didn't know that you enjoy it, not to mention that I can get those cards signed for you," Willow joked feebly. Phil gave her a wan smile in reply.

"I'm going to need help to help you," he started, but Willow held up a hand first.

"First of all, please let me say now that I'm not a freeloader. If joining SHIELD as an Agent is what it takes to get me in, I have skills that can be useful," she said calmly. "Secondly, on one condition. You're going to have to be my handler," she bartered.

Phil looked at her for a moment. "Let me call in Hawkeye and the Black Widow to assess you and it'll be a deal," he finally said, and Willow allowed a relieved smile to curl her lips.

"Deal." He shook hands with him. "Thank you, sir," she said gratefully.

"Well honestly it's a win-win situation for me," he replied with a self-deprecating shrug. "I bring in a new valuable agent and I get my cards signed. I think you're the one getting the short stick here."

"Nah," she scoffed. "This isn't the first time I'll be working for secret projects," she chuckled wryly. "Howard can't get all the credit for that machine or its workings, much less keeping it a secret. Besides, I get to meet my Captain again, plus I get to work with Hawkeye and Black Widow - I'm hoping, 'cause I admire them like you wouldn't believe - and my handler is _Phil Coulson._ And by the way, as much as I wish I could tell you that's flattery, I'm afraid it's not." She sipped from her mug casually.

Phil smiled, but his eyes showed something else. "SHIELD isn't pretty," he said quietly.

"I know you found that out the hard way but stayed to minimize damage. Why do you think I admire you?" she replied, looking over the rim of her mug at him. He turned away without answering, bringing out the steaks from the oven and setting one on a plate while handing it to her.

"SHIELD will wonder about your knowledge," he said, and watched as Willow knelt to set the plate in front of Fenrir.

"Here Fen, try. It's really good, trust me," she said with a smile. Fenrir looked at her, tilting his head, then slowly picked it up to get a taste. She patted his nose before turning back to him.

"Fury's secrets have got secrets, and so do mine. I'm not as incompetent as you think I might be," she replied with a slight smile. "But let's put that to the test when the best of best come to assess me, yeah?" she replied calmly, feeling anything but. IT WAS THE BLACK WIDOW FOR THE NORN'S SAKE, SHE WAS DOOMED.

"Mind if I give them a call?" Phil asked, and she shrugged.

"You're the master of the house, and my boss soon probably," she replied with a grin.

Phil seemed to look at her carefully. "I get the feeling Fury isn't going to like you," he said slowly, and she grinned.

"No, he won't," she said cheerfully. "But then, I'm a Stark who was under the command of Captain America. It just spells trouble for him, don't you think?" she asked mischievously, something she'd picked up from Loki and kind of wished she hadn't.

A smile appeared on Phil's face. "Then I think we can come to an agreement," he replied, opening his phone. Willow looked down at Fenrir, who was happily chewing on his steak.

"Good, Fen?" she asked amusedly, and he growled contentedly back.

"I need you at my apartment," Phil was saying into his phone. "Right away." He hung up, then called another number and said the same.

"I didn't even think about it, but will you get in trouble for calling them on a day off?" she suddenly asked.

"I'm their handlers, and they've made it rather clear that they take orders from no one else," Phil replied rather helplessly, setting the phone back on the counter.

"Oh," Willow's voice was suddenly small as she curled up into a ball, regardless of the height of the stool.

"Something wrong?"

"I'm scared," she replied into her knees, and realized it was more true than she realized.

"About what?" Phil's voice was softer.

"Everything." Tears began to slip down her cheeks. "It was scary, knowing that I was the only mutant of my time and then leaving my family. I was scared when I ended up in an unfamiliar place. It was scary when I was banished with only Fen. And time passes differently in Asgard than it does here, plus I'm a mutant, and even though I've lived for a long time now I'm really only _eighteen_ with secrets on top of secrets and I'm _scared_ ," she sniffed, rather wondering where the mood swing came from but not really questioning it because she sort of knew and didn't want to admit it. "It's... it's too much," she whispered exhaustedly. Fenrir sat up and pawed her leg, growing so that he was about her height. He began to nuzzle the side of her face, while she sighed.

Phil stared at Fenrir like he'd never seen him before. "I'm sorry," he offered softly, and Willow grinned at him weakly.

"No, I'm sorry, I'm the hormonal teenaged girl crying on your hands," she laughed wetly.

"Thor mentioned you," Phil suddenly said, and Willow's head popped up.

"When?" she asked anxiously. "Did he say anything about Fen?"

"He mentioned his brother's sister and his son," he replied slowly. "Before he left."

Willow wilted back into the chair. "Oh." Then she turned to Fenrir. "I'm fine, Fen, you can turn to normal size," she said, and he shrank back down to a normal sized wolf.

"Why did he say his brother's sister? Doesn't that make you his sister?" Phil asked in confusion.

"Adoption in Asgard works differently than here," Willow replied automatically. "One person can choose to adopt another as whatever rank he wishes as long as another person of equal or higher status can acknowledge it. I was adopted by Thor's brother as a sister and their mother Frigga spoke for me, so I was known as child of Frigga. It was an informal adoption which means that I don't inherit anything," she said, absently looking down at Fenrir. "Fen is my nephew," she added tiredly.

"I see-" but before Phil could ask anymore, there was a knock at the door. Willow took off like a shot, darting over to the couch and curling up in a tight ball of fear while Fenrir leaped up to wrap himself around her protectively. Phil went to open the door, and Willow heard two voices speak up.

"What's the emergency, Phil?" Clint Barton's raspy voice asked.

"I never said it was an emergency."

"No, but your voice screamed it all," Natasha Romanoff replied in her cool, smooth voice.

"Picked up another stray. Hoping you could help me out," but there was an undercurrent in Phil's mild voice that made Willow shudder. There was a pause, and she refused to look up as footsteps approached her, recalling all-too-vividly a scene with gunshots and pain. This is why she had avoided talking about Project Rebirth and Erskine - and her father.

"Hey," Clint's voice, she realized. Willow said nothing, shivering slightly despite Fenrir's warmth. "I know all about panic attacks," Clint went on knowingly, and she heard a scraping sound. "Memories do that to ya."

Fenrir nudged her with a whimper. "It's not a panic attack," she whispered, voice trembling, still refusing to look at him. She could feel Natasha's gaze, and it scared her like no other. She knew that the two could kill her if they wished, and it reminded her too much of Bucky. She was scared that what she knew of her brother would be brought to light, and she couldn't afford that. Not now.

"Well there's nothing to be scared of here," Clint said calmingly.

"There is," Willow replied rebelliously, clutching Fenrir's fur as he began to growl.

"Nah, not with a wolf watchin' over ya," Clint chuckled, and Willow peeked up as the wracking shivers subsided slowly.

"I get sick," she said, taking in Hawkeye and his usual gear, up to his scruffy hair and kind if rugged face. "Get cold," she added by way of explanation.

"Sick?" Clint asked with a frown.

Willow glanced warily at Phil, who just nodded and smiled reassuringly. So... they could be trusted? "Hey, look. Doesn't matter where you came from. Doesn't matter what you did, or what you were forced to do. You can trust us 'cause we've been there, alright?" Clint said seriously but soothingly, and Willow laughed softly, still rubbing her arms for warmth.

"Thank you, but it's not... I haven't done that sort of thing," she said. "It's just... I know you - I mean I know _of_ you - and it just... you almost hurt my brother," she admitted shakily. "I don't... I'm not someone people tend to trust too much," she said warily.

"I almost hurt your brother?" Clint sounded a bit panicked.

"I mean my adopted brother," she elaborated hastily. "T-Thor. Guy with the hammer that cried when he couldn't lift it the first time," she added, unable to help herself despite the situation. Clint looked at her with green eyes, a new light in them.

"You're an -" he seemed to break off. "From where Thor's from?"

"It's called Asgard," she said automatically, then sighed. "No, I'm not an Aesir. I'm adopted. It's... a really long story," she mumbled into her knees again, while Fenrir curled around her a little more tightly, tail brushing her face. "Stop, Fen," she whined.

Natasha came forwards this time, precipitating a swift retreat into a ball again. The Black Widow stopped. "You can tell us. I'm not going to hurt you," Natasha said, and Willow shook her head, almost terrified.

"You don't trust me," she squeaked, and the implication that _she_ didn't trust _Nat_ was rather obvious.

"Did I almost kill someone you know?" Nat asked somewhat wryly.

"No, but you know my other adopted brother." Willow wasn't even sure how well she was handling this; frankly, she didn't care anymore. "You wouldn't trust me."

"Tell us," Clint took over, sensing that it was _not_ going well.

"They can help you, Willow," Phil finally spoke up, and Willow looked at him with utter trust, glancing somewhat warily at Clint.

"But I know too much," she pleaded. "Cooper... Lila... Mrs. Laura," she whispered, and saw Clint stiffen marginally as well as Natasha. Phil sighed.

" _Tell_ them, Willow. I promise, they'll help you. They've been where you've been. They know people you know," he said, and now Nat and Clint were looking like they were watching a ping-pong match. Grinding her teeth slightly because she _didn't have the slightest clue what to do now_ , Willow gave in. What other choice did she _have_!?

"I..." she sighed, still in a tight ball. "My name is Willow Stark Friggadottir," she finally said.

"Wait, Stark?" Natasha frowned.

So Willow explained the same thing to them as she had to Phil. By the time she had finished the rushed and nervous account, she was shaking again. This time, it was in terror at what she had done. This wasn't how she had planned. She hadn't even planned. What would the Voice say!?

"Hey, it's okay," Clint finally reached out to place a careful hand on her foot. She didn't move away, instead freezing up entirely. "We get it. I think you've more than proved your story. It's alright," he said, and Willow just had to ruin it again.

"But there's something else I didn't tell you and that's how I know about your family and also your pasts and that's because when I was in a coma back in 1943 I dreamed up an entirely different life where you were all just stories that people loved to hear about and make movies of and dress up as and all that and when I woke up I knew all of that stuff and I thought it was real and then I found out that I'm the daughter of Howard Stark and I didn't remember and I couldn't figure out which life was real and I'm sorry if I scared you but I don't know what to do with what I know and you frankly scare me half to death because I know literally almost everything about you and SHIELD and I'm all alone," she blurted all in one breath, then clapped her hand over her mouth. It was out, but somehow she felt infinitely relieved.

There was a full minute of silence, and Willow felt like she wanted to crawl in a hole and die or something. She'd messed up. Badly. This was every cliche in the book, blurting her life story to the worst possible people in the worst possible situation.

"So let me get this straight. You were basically a dead girl in the 1940s when you dreamed up an entirely different life with knowledge about people you never knew in the future, then you wake up to that very world that you believed was fake, then you supposedly died, were transported to Asgard, got adopted, banished, and ended up here," Clint summarized, and she nodded miserably.

"It's a far-fetched story," she said quietly.

"Yeah, but it fits," Natasha said. Willow looked up at her just as Natasha closed her phone. "There's no file on you in SHIELD's database, plus Phil mentioned Thor said something about you and him," she nodded at Fenrir, "and I happen to know that there's a secret file on Tony Stark's matrix that's named Willow," she added, and Willow looked up with wide eyes.

"There is?" she asked almost inaudibly. Tony had gotten her scrapbook?

"There is," Natasha replied calmly. "Phil told me about your deal. You're clear with me," she said.

Willow eyed her warily. "I know there's a lot of stuff you don't want people to know," she said.

Natasha gazed at her evenly and coldly with her blue eyes. "There is."

Willow racked her brains. "I know you've got red in your ledger, and you want to wipe it out," she went on. "I know who you were trained by." An idea formed. "To show you I don't want to use anything against you, I'll tell you that I know who trained you and I don't want SHIELD knowing that information either. I know him," she said, looking Natasha straight in the eye.

They stared down for a moment, then Natasha suddenly smiled slightly. "You pick up the good ones, Phil," she said, and Willow decided that she'd dodged a bullet.

"Can I take her home?" Clint asked. Willow stared at him. "What? You're just a kid for heaven's sake, and the way you went through all that stuff I'm beginning to see why you freaked out. You need a home, and I've got one. If your wolf can play nice with the kids," he added.

"You trust me to keep that a secret?" Willow asked wonderingly. She was honestly bewildered by that point.

Clint gave her an odd look. "Look kid, you're a _kid._ There's obviously a lot of things you aren't saying, but you trust Coulson and he brought you to us. That's something we have in common. If Coulson thinks you're worth savin', then you're worth saving," he said, and Willow slumped in relief.

"Thanks," she said wearily. "But... I wanna be there when Capsicle wakes up." She frowned.

"I think we can arrange that," Coulson said with a slight smile.

"What? But how? And don't think that's an answer," Clint pointed at her. Fenrir decided that the danger was over and visibly relaxed, yawning.

"She knows him. I'm sure that's enough to convince Fury that a familiar face when he wakes up would be a good idea," Coulson replied calmly, with a touch of deviousness that made Willow began to relax. This, she could handle.

"Fenrir plays nice with kids," she answered with a weak smile. "At least, he did with me."

"I will play nice if they are like you," Fenrir's voice took everyone by surprise. Even Natasha looked a little startled, while Clint let out a "whoa!" and reeled back. Coulson blinked.

Willow patted him. "Lila and Cooper and Mrs. Barton are nice," she informed him. "DaddyHawk takes care of 'em," she added in satisfaction, and Natasha actually laughed.

"I am so using that." Nat grinned at Clint, who sighed.

"How does he-?" Clint stared with curiosity at Fenrir, who looked a little tense.

"His name is Fenrir, and he's my nephew. Can I have a hug?" she addressed Fenrir, who heaved a sigh before deciding to morph and acquiesce to her request. His expression was unimpressed.

"Father is right. You are too clingy," he grumbled, while she sat in his lap and played with his tail.

"Shut up, it's not _my_ fault big Brother hates hugs," she sulked.

"When can I take them home?" Clint was practically begging Coulson now, who raised his eyebrows.

"She has to be initiated into SHIELD first," he replied dryly.

"What's your skill-set?" Natasha asked bluntly, and Willow looked up with a blink.

"I can enter people's nightmares and take their monsters away. It's just a hypothesis, since I haven't actually tried it, but I think I can actually summon them as physical forms I can control, since I've technically stolen them." She shrugged. The others exchanged glances at that.

"Do you have a code name?" Natasha asked.

"No. Couldn't really think of one," she replied, while Fenrir narrowed his eyes at her.

"Try," he suddenly challenged, and Willow looked at him in horror.

"What!?"

"Try," he demanded again.

Willow's head swiveled to the others, who shrugged. "Sure, try it," Clint finally said. Swallowing, Willow stood up, moving to an empty corner and closing her eyes. As Loki had tutored her, she focused on her inner energy, feeling the stripe in her hair began to get warm. She then focused on the snake she remembered from Loki's nightmare, feeling the stripe in her hair get almost hot. When she opened her eyes, the snake was there at her feet, hissing and venom dripping from its jaws. She continued to focus, amazed at the way she could control its movements, sending it slithering back and forth. Natasha stepped towards it, reaching a hand out.

"Don't let the venom touch you," Willow said sharply, and Natasha nodded as she picked it up behind its head. It was solid, wriggling in her hold. Willow swirled her finger, making it curl around Nat's arm.

"What does the venom do?" Nat sounded intrigued. Clint shuffled forwards to look at it.

"Melts the skin off your bones. One drop to the eye causes blindness," the cold, detached tone in Willow's voice made them look at her. "Nightmares can be more horrifying than real life," she said quietly, and saw a new plane of understanding come into their eyes. She had seen horrors.

"Yeah, you're coming home with me," Clint said as Natasha continued to look at it.

"It's so real," she remarked. "I can even feel the scales."

"Because it's based on a real creature, mostly," Willow said dryly, twisting her hands and making it disappear. They gave her looks that she translated as being as close to horror that assassins could get. Willow retreated into Fenrir's lap again.

"This will be interesting to bring to Fury." Natasha had the light of battle in her eyes, and Willow had the sinking feeling that it was going to be bad.


	9. Sharing Stories

_New chapter for y'all!_

 _Thank you for your patience, and I appreciate every single one of my follows, favorites, and especially reviews. I usually try to answer the reviews when I can, so if I don't forgive me. Know that I do appreciate all of you, so much._

 _Always, thanks to Madcinder, who somehow manages to straighten out my messes in record time._

 _Please, Read,_

 _Enjoy,_

 _Review!_

* * *

It was bad. It was very, very bad.

"So, you're telling me that Willow Freya, code name DreamCatcher, is a member of SHIELD that I was not informed of?"

Willow was standing behind Clint and Coulson with Fenrir clutched in her arms. Fury, in front of them, was _not_ impressed.

"We're informing you now," Clint replied unrepentantly. Natasha had her poker face on.

Fury looked at them with his one good eye. "And what exactly about her will make me overlook this stray this time?" Fury just sounded resigned by now. Natasha glanced at her discreetly, and though it had drained her, Willow pulled the snake out again, making it crawl onto the desk. Venom dripped into the trash can by the desk, melting the contents with a sizzle. Then it just disappeared, and Willow clutched Fenrir tightly to keep from collapsing from exhaustion. She'd have to work on that.

Fury looked at her, and she blinked back. She didn't even care what happened to her now. This was an utter mess. She was supposed to be safe with her brother (she wished), not involved with SHIELD. She should be searching for Bucky, not in line to be there when Steve woke up.

"She happens to be part of the Howling Commandos. She's a familiar face to Captain America," Phil tossed in casually, and Willow saw Clint distinctly smirk at Coulson.

Fury stared at her long and hard. "Fine, but keep her under control, or we will be having a _talk_ that you will not enjoy. I also need files to keep the Council happy," Fury added, and Willow knew then that someone was watching over her. Praise the heavens. Even if she had the sinking feeling that Fury looked at her like something the cats had brought in for their amusement.

Clint practically dragged her out while Coulson began to settle other things with Fury. Natasha followed after leisurely. "Wh-where are we going?" Willow asked, bewildered.

"Nat and I are taking you to my farm to meet the others and move you in. And we're gonna talk about how you're going to figure out how to tell Stark that you're a Stark," Clint said with what could only be described as a cackle. They arrived at a roof-like area, where a Quinjet was waiting. "I can't wait to see his face when he finds out."

"B-but, Coulson! And you know him!?" Willow cried, while Natasha sauntered into the jet.

"Coulson will be fine, he's busy doing stuff." Clint waved it off, dragging her on board. "You just got him slightly promoted, too." He grinned. "I don't know the guy personally, but Nat does. It'll be fun!" he said in the cheerily sarcastic voice she knew so well. Willow had to clutch a seat with a slight shriek and let Fenrir go as they suddenly took off without warning.

"That's nothing like the Bifrost," she gasped, feeling a bit disoriented by the takeoff.

"You got anymore tricks?" Clint asked curiously, easily clutching a strap and balancing himself. "The kids will love it," he added with a grin.

"Ah- I, umm, only visited a few people's dreams. Haven't had opportunities to visit too many others," she replied, sitting down on a bench and scooping up a staggering Fenrir. "But I... I'll have to practice. I might be able to create stuff with lucid dreaming," she offered hesitantly. "And I could... I could try to keep a watch on your children's dreams to ward off nightmares if I can."

"You could ask 'em what they want," Clint said, and Willow wondered sardonically if he would really appreciate her being in their heads when he would be possessed himself later. She shoved the idea aside in slight frustration.

"Are you sure that Mrs. Barton would accept me? I mean, I'm a... well, we're strays." Willow frowned, and Fenrir gave her a faintly offended look. "Okay, _I'm_ a stray, you're my overprotective-"

Fenrir cut her off with a growl. "Fine," she sulked.

Clint chuckled. "She's got a soft spot for kids. Besides, starting young in this kind of job isn't easy," he said, more seriously.

"Well, I'm not really planning to stay too long," Willow replied dryly.

"And how do you plan to back out?" Clint raised his eyebrows at her.

"I don't," she said simply. "I'm going to change bosses." She shrugged.

"I'll believe it when I see it," he said skeptically.

"It won't happen for a while, so don't sweat too much." Willow laughed genuinely for the first time since she had begun talking to them. "And I won't replace too much staff. You'll see." Her eyes gleamed deviously.

"You'll have to work with her, Nat, she says she can take down SHIELD," Clint jeered good-naturedly.

"I don't know, Clint, I don't think she makes threats," Natasha replied in all seriousness.

"Nah, just promises. But the trick is figuring out which ones are playful and which ones are promises~" she said in a sing-song voice, giggling somewhat maniacally.

"Calm down there Joker," Clint said dryly.

"I'm not a psychopath. I'm a high-functioning sociopath, do your research," she replied just as wryly.

"Ohhhh, do I hear a bit of nerdiness in there?" Clint teased, pointing at her.

"Hobbit, Lord of the Rings Trilogy, Silmarillion, and all the History of Middle Earth books I could get my hands on, plus movie verse," she replied with a sly grin.

"You and I will get along just fine," Clint declared.

"Save me," Natasha said dryly.

"I'm not much for brooding over pasts and deep dark history and stuff, but can I just say that I know you're uncomfortable with what I know and that it's okay to ask me questions and tell me not to mention certain things?" Willow suddenly asked. "I feel like I don't know where the line is," she explained uncomfortably.

A more serious pall settled in the air. Willow looked down self-consciously at Fenrir. "I think it would be nice if you could take the time to sit down with Laura, Nat and I to talk. Maybe tonight. Sound okay with you?" Clint finally asked, and Willow nodded.

"Thank you," she said with relief. "That would be good." Even if she wasn't exactly looking forward to being asked that many questions, but she needed, _wanted_ , them to trust her.

"Does everyone get access to your sob story?" Clint asked, though his eyes told her he didn't mean it rudely.

"You have to have a level ten clearance," she answered primly.

"So we have a level ten?" his eyebrows shot up. "You hear that Nat?"

"Well you have level ten with each other and your family and Mr. Coulson, so since the world hasn't blown up yet and I need you to know, you get access," Willow snarked back.

"Yet?" It was Natasha who asked.

"I don't think we'll live that long," Willow said dryly. "And don't take that in a morbid way."

"She's definitely a Stark," Clint decided. Willow didn't comment on that. She wasn't ready.

"We should be there in an hour," Natasha said, and Clint excused himself to go do something in the back of the jet. Willow came up to the copilot seat.

"Is this seat empty?" she asked softly, and Natasha nodded. Willow sat down, curling up her legs while Fenrir fell asleep in the back. She looked out the window, admiring the clouds and the blue sky.

"I don't think you're stupid enough not to know why we're really taking you to the farm," Natasha said at length, and Willow smiled.

"No, I know you want to keep an eye on me. I don't blame you, believe me. I wouldn't trust myself either. I don't, in fact," she confessed.

"You said you had cancer?" Natasha went on, her voice more gentle now, though Willow sure didn't take that as a sign to relax her mental guard.

"I don't know. It sure seemed like it," she replied, immediately guessing what the next question would be.

"How would you know?" Aaaaand, there it was.

"Remember I said I dreamed of a different life?" Willow reminded. Natasha nodded, still focused ahead of her. "It was of... present times. I'm not even sure if it was a dream or something else." She shrugged. "I know how you play, Nat. Please don't dance around the issue to get the information you're looking for," she finally said bluntly, and could have sworn she heard a little choking cough from the back. Hawkeye and his hearing aids, darn him. Natasha seemed to smile a bit.

"You're honest," she chuckled.

"As much as I can be. It was kind of a stickler thing with the big Golden Retriever around," she said casually.

"Is that what he was called?" Natasha sounded highly amused.

"No, that was my special nickname for him," she replied dryly.

"How much did you dream?" Natasha finally made her point out of the blue. Willow looked up, closing her eyes.

"I think, with all due respect Miss Romanoff, it would be better to wait until we sit down with all three people in order to listen to that long story," she said with a sigh.

"You seem determined to tell us," Natasha commented mildly. Willow stayed quiet for a minute, but when she answered she just sounded tired.

"I'm not you," she finally said, and heard Clint come up behind them. "I'm not either of you. I didn't grow up in a circus, I wasn't trained in a Red Room by one of the world's best assassins. I wasn't bent and broken and then found by Coulson and offered another chance. I wasn't _trained_ for anything. I was an impossibly sick girl under the care of her single father that cherished her because she was all he had in the middle of a World War, who became the era's first mutant and was in a coma for a year. I dreamed. I visioned. Whatever. I dreamed of an entire different life, different family, different friends. A different _world_. Then when I wake up, what I thought was reality wasn't and I knew stuff I didn't know before. Then I _died_ , got sent to and adopted by _aliens_ , was banished, and then landed here. What am I _supposed_ to do? I don't _know_ what to do. I'm just... I'm just eighteen," she finally croaked, looking down at her knees.

"It's not my fault the universe decided to use me as a fulcrum," she sniffed, wiping away salty tears that she couldn't help. The other two were quiet. "When I woke up somehow with the stuff I knew, I just..." She shook her head. "I admire you two. Always have. For me, it's like an impossibility to be around you guys. You're amazing. And I don't really... I lose everyone I come to see as family, and I'm just a _kid_ in my mind and I'm helpless and I know I can trust you guys if I can get you to see that I'm not going to... That I don't have any reason or want to sell you guys out or anything. I'm not an assassin who can just... make up stuff along the way. I can give selective truth and I can _survive_ , but I can't do word games." Willow leaned her head against her knees.

"It's cheesy, but you're the only chance I've got right now at safety," she sighed.

There was another silence that must have lasted at least ten minutes to Willow's mind before Natasha finally spoke up. "Neither of us were trained for magic and monsters," she finally said quietly. "I'm not saying you're a monster," she added, glancing over at her, and Willow nodded back reassuringly. "I'm saying that we don't know how to handle stuff like this. This isn't even science, and it's not something we know how to deal with. The fact that you know so much does surprise us, yes, but-"

"She means it scares the living he-eck out of us-" Clint fixed himself just in time. "And yeah, we wanna keep an eye on you, but we're just about ready to proclaim you trustworthy because so far you haven't done a thing or breathed a word to anyone like you easily could have. Plus, there's proof of what you're saying everywhere. Oh, and Nat reads people really well and I've never seen her waver over a decision like this. AND," he added as an afterthought, while Natasha rolled her eyes, "not to mention that you just said you admired us, and I don't think anyone has ever said that before," he mused.

"Except for a certain three?" Willow asked with a faint smile.

"Except that," Clint agreed wryly. There was another, more comfortable silence.

"I don't know every detail," Willow finally said quietly. "But it doesn't matter to me and I don't want you to think I'm going to hold it against you."

Clint reached over the back of the chair to ruffle her hair. "Thanks, kid," he said warmly, while she ducked.

"Why does everyone have a fascination with my hair?" she grouched while Clint laughed saucily. Natasha just sighed at them helplessly.

Thirty minutes later, they were touching down in front of a large farmhouse. A large golden retriever and two kids came bounding out the screen door, while a brown-haired woman stood on the porch with a smile. Clint lowered the door and opened his arms to receive the kids and the dog, laughing. Fenrir backed towards Willow while Natasha stood as well after shutting the engines down. Willow hung back, holding Fenrir for comfort. Nat looked back at her.

"C'mon." She beckoned with her head, and Willow followed after skittishly.

"Hey! Look who I brought," Clint grinned, and the kids yelled 'Auntie Nat!' while pouncing on the red-haired woman. The golden retriever sniffed the air, coming into the cabin. He approached Willow, who knelt cautiously, holding out the back of her hand. The retriever sniffed it, then his tail wagged as he 'woofed' in Fenrir's direction. Willow set him down gently, and Fenrir approached the dog with a haughty air. The golden retriever rolled onto his back, and Fenrir nuzzled noses with him.

"Who's that, Daddy?" little Lila asked, and Willow looked up to see both kids looking at her curiously.

"C'mon." Clint beckoned to her, and Willow hesitantly approached.

"Hi," she said quietly, smiling weakly at the two.

"This is Willow," Clint told his children. "She might be staying with us for a while. She's kind of alone right now," he explained, and a look of pity entered the kids' eyes. Willow didn't grudge it though, knowing that they were too young to understand and only meant well.

"I... I brought you a friend," Willow offered softly, then called to Fenrir. "Fenrir!"

The Wolf obediently trotted up, normal-sized, and the kids looked wide-eyed. "Fenrir, these are the Barton kids. You'll play nice, won't you?" she asked, and Fenrir surveyed them before looking at her expectantly. She heaved an exaggerated sigh. "They won't pull your ears or tail, Fenrir, stop being such a jerk," she hissed, and Lila giggled as Cooper grinned. Fenrir growled back before carefully approaching Lila and sniffing at her. "I promise he won't bite. You can call him Fen," Willow said softly. They reached out to Fenrir and were soon petting him with delight, while the golden retriever bounded around with cheerful abandon.

Clint and Nat nodded at her approvingly before starting off, and Willow followed them more slowly. The kids ran around with Fenrir and the dog while Laura waited for them on the porch. Clint greeted his wife with a kiss as they arrived, and Nat hugged the demure woman.

"Hey honey, this is Willow. She'll be staying with us for a while. Work stuff," he said, but Willow decided by the looks exchanged that that was a code word for something else. Probably came in handy as far as the kids, Willow realized.

Laura turned to her with a smile. "Hello Willow, I'm Laura. You're welcome to stay here as long as you need," she said kindly, and Willow smiled gratefully.

"Thank you, Mrs. Barton," she replied genuinely.

"Come on in," Laura said, and led them inside. The kids came in with Fenrir and the dog soon after, while Willow determined to learn the dog's name sooner than later. "You must be hungry," Laura said, heading into the kitchen. "I made enough casserole to feed all of us for dinner," she remarked with satisfaction, pulling it out of the oven. Willow went over to her.

"May I help?" she asked softly, and Laura smiled.

"Silverware is in that drawer," she answered, and Willow nodded before taking them out and beginning to set the table.

"You're home early." Laura glanced at Fenrir, who was currently rolling on the carpet with Cooper while Lila laughed herself silly.

"Special case. Coulson got promoted," Clint replied casually, setting cups out on the table while Nat set the pan of casserole in the center.

"Oh?" Laura's eyebrows went up.

"He also became a handler to a new recruit," Clint explained discreetly, and Laura glanced at Willow knowingly, which Willow ignored.

"Ah. Good for him, then," Laura said approvingly. "That man is a gift." She scurried about, setting out drinks and other things. "Kids, come to the table!" she called, and the kids obediently grabbed the dogs and shoved them under the table while climbing into their chairs.

"How long will Willow and Fen be staying?" Lila piped up, looking at Willow shyly. Willow felt slightly odd, never having been looked up to before. She wondered if this was how Loki felt around her.

"I don't know, darlin'," Clint replied, sitting down next to her. Laura sat down next to him, while Nat sat next to her and Willow sat at the end. Fenrir shuffled up to her feet. "Hopefully for a while. She's got another place where she should be staying, though I'm sure she'll come visit if you ask nicely." He winked at Lila. Willow wasn't sure what she'd say to that. She wasn't even sure of her reception here.

"Can I give Lucky and Fen their food?" Cooper asked, and Laura nodded.

"Go ahead, dear," she replied, and Cooper eagerly slid off his chair while the others began to eat. Willow ate slowly, unsure of what to say.

"So Willow, do you have any family?" Laura asked, and Willow tried not to choke on her mouthful of rather delicious casserole. She swallowed before attempting to answer.

"A-ah, I'm kind of estranged from my only living relative that has any right to be my legal guardian. I'm also adopted," she hazarded, and Laura seemed to realize her mistake.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked," she said apologetically, but Willow shook her head.

"No, no, it's fine," she said hastily. "It's just a really weird story that's hard to explain," she laughed awkwardly. Cooper came back with a large bowl of dog food that he slid under the table. Crunching was heard, and Willow soon heard a second pair of jaws join. She mentally apologized to Fenrir and managed to sneak a napkin full of casserole under the table to him.

Conversation continued casually, and Willow tried to be as relaxed as much as she could. It was an hour and dishes washed and dried later when Laura told the kids that the adults and Willow would be talking for a while, and the three adults and one frightened girl retired into a study room. The door closed but not locked so Fenrir could get inside if he wanted, they sat down with coffee or hot chocolate in Willow's case as Clint explained the circumstances to Laura. Then he nodded to Willow, who took a deep breath while Natasha watched her.

"First of all, let me please say that there are some things I won't talk about in detail yet. One day, but not now," she said, and the others nodded calmly. "Thank you. I was born on March the twelfth, 1927 as Willow Stark. My mother died in childbirth and I was left to the care of my father Howard Stark who raised me until I was fourteen, when I fell critically ill late in the year and had to be taken to the hospital. The doctors couldn't diagnose what was wrong with me; all they could say was that some abnormality had begun to take over my body's cells one by one. My father desperately searched for experts, and finally came across Doctor Abraham Erskine." She swallowed, barely noticing the shock that flitted over Laura's face.

"When I turned fifteen, I fell into a coma for an entire year. During that year, I dreamt - visioned - I really don't know - about an entirely different life. A different family, different friends; I lived an entire sixteen years in my head, even went to school and was planning to be a history major," she laughed somewhat bitterly. "During that time, I actually dreamed about this world, obviously reality seeping through my memories, but in my dream this world was a story. A fancy story made to entertain people, even made into comics and movies. I dreamed about my Dad, I dreamed about Doctor Erskine and his super-soldier serum, and I dreamed about the future." She looked down at her hands absently, fidgeting with them. "I dreamed about who would be the only Captain America, how Erskine died, how Steve Rogers fell into the ice; and I learned about you. Clint Barton, his wife and two kids, and Natasha Romanoff. You guys are heroes, in the dream. You were admired by so many. Loved by so many. Little girls dreamed of being a Black Widow. In my love for the stories, I even studied about your pasts, and your futures," she sighed wearily, slicking a hand through her hair and uncovering the golden stripe. "I dreamed about my brother Tony Stark, and how he became Iron Man."

She looked back up, seeing the conflicting emotions on Laura's face. "When I woke up, that was all just _stories_ to me. So I wake up to see the legendary Doctor Erskine leaning over me, and Howard Stark the genius calling me his daughter, and of course I got confused. I had to get my memories back, slowly and in small pieces. I had to remember who I was, and come to grips with reality." She curled up in her chair out of habit, trying to still her trembling hands. "And then I realize; I know the _future_. I worked on Project Rebirth with my Dad and the Doctor. I helped build the machine. I was there when I first met pre-serum Steve Rogers, and I was there when Erskine died and Steve became Captain America. I knew Steve Rogers before I even met him or heard his name. I was even declared a member of the Howling Commandos," she let out a scoffing breath.

"But the doctors couldn't fix me, and I got worse. It was like cancer or advanced leukemia, and Howard didn't have the time or resources to drop stuff and work on inventing a machine that could save me. So..." She began to feel a bit short of breath. "So I... I said goodbye to Steve and the other Commandos one day when they left for a mission, and I fell asleep," she rasped. "I didn't... I didn't wake back up."

Laura gasped slightly, hand raised to her mouth. Willow refused to look at anyone by that point. "I heard later that they buried me, that Steve cried, that Howard said not a word at my funeral. But I wasn't.. I wasn't really gone. The truth was, I was the first mutant of my age." She fingered the gold in her hair. "This is the manifestation of my enhancement. My body couldn't handle the strain, so I was apparently given a new one, I don't know how it works." She shrugged. "Somehow, I fell from the sky above an entirely different planet and landed in the middle of a palace," she said dryly, glancing at Clint questioningly. He nodded.

"Turns out, I landed at Thor's doorstep," she sighed. "Since I had nowhere to go, I was adopted into the royal household under certain conditions," she explained the deal, though she didn't mention Loki's name. "So actually... Fenrir is my nephew by adoption," she said somewhat awkwardly. Laura looked a bit thrown by that. "He can talk too, I just didn't want him to earlier since you didn't know me or him. But anyway... trouble rose between Asgard and another planet, and due to certain circumstances - ironically the same ones that had Thor thrown into Earth - Fenrir and I were banished for a while and sent here as well. Coulson found us and took me in as another stray just yesterday," and the exhaustion crept into her voice while she explained her reasons for being at their house at that present moment.

"So yes, I know all about you. Well, a lot. And I know you have no reason to trust me. But please, ask questions, and please tell me where the line is so I know where I stand," she finished, wishing she never had to tell that story again. She refused to contemplate that eventually her other secrets about her time in Asgard would come out later.

Predictably, it was Natasha who spoke up first. "That answers a lot of questions," she admitted. "I think the only question I really have is how much do you know about my... skill set?" she asked.

Willow pursed her lips. "Red Room, Winter Soldier trainer, eventually you purposely botched a mission and gained attention of Clint and Coulson who brought you in and gave you another chance which you took. You are highly trained in martial arts, any type of firearm, throwing knives, daggers, tasers, rope, signature Black Widow bite or sting, and ten ways to kill someone with a salt shaker," she said.

"And me?" Clint asked as Natasha nodded thoughtfully. Laura held his hand.

Willow looked down. "You were in the circus with your brother Barney and were taught by the sword master. You were abused often and finally ran away, getting picked up by Coulson and through a series of events became an agent of SHIELD. You became known as Hawkeye by your eyesight and skill with the bow and arrow, and have eighty percent hearing loss in one ear due to an accident where you tried to save someone else. When you met Natasha, you were told to take her out but made a different call. The rest is history," she finished uncomfortably.

There was a long silence, and coffee and hot chocolate were finished. Willow struggled to stay awake. "You're welcome to stay here as long as you like," Laura finally said softly. "You and Fenrir."

"Thank you," Willow whispered, feeling the world began to spin.

Laura stood. "I'll show you to a room," she said, and Willow told the other two good night before heading to the room that Laura gave her. Thanking the kind woman, she flopped over and fell asleep, unaware of the conversation downstairs in the locked study and the fact that Fenrir crawled into her bed later in the night.

* * *

"Little Sapling. It has been a while," Loki's voice curled around her, and Willow spun around, looking for him.

"Loki?" she asked, wanting to see him. "Where are you?"

Loki appeared, striding towards her in a green and gold leather outfit, his helmet on his head. Willow ran and threw her arms around his waist, not caring about the metal that poked her cheek. He stiffened but said nothing, just placing a hand on her head.

"Where are you?" she whispered again, but knew that he would understand her question.

"Thor came back. He is changed now, as I told you he would be. I have told him my ruse and we are working to bring them here," he replied in a detached tone, and Willow knew something was wrong. She pulled back to look at him, eyebrows furrowed.

"What's wrong," she demanded. He raised an eyebrow at her, but she would have none of it. "What's wrong," she pressed again, and he sighed.

"Will you never let it go?" he asked, and earned a scathing glare which he ignored. "I have made myself known as Loki Odinson no longer."

For a moment Willow almost panicked, thinking that all was lost for her. "I am now Loki Friggadottir," he went on, and the overwhelming fear subsided. "I cannot trust the AllFather any longer, Willow," he said quietly. "He has done me wrong."

Willow pressed her face against his breastplate again. "I know," she said in a muffled tone. "It's okay, big Brother." Her eyes squeezed shut. After a pause, she spoke up again. "Is everything... Is everything working out?" she asked in a small voice.

"You need not worry," Loki replied stiffly. "It is well."

Willow chose not to comment, instead still holding onto him.

"Are you planning to strangle me?" Loki asked dryly, and Willow swallowed a lump in her throat. Unless she could continue dream-sharing when he fell, this might be the last time she saw him.

"Yes," she rasped, and heard him sigh.

"What are you crying about now?" he sounded resigned as he continued to keep his hand on her head, playing with the golden stripe.

"I miss you," she replied thickly, and it was truth.

He scoffed. "Stop being such a baby. You are older than that," he scolded, and she managed a wet sounding laugh.

"Shut up, Loki Friggadottir, I will miss my brother and mother in whatever way I wish," she sassed back, and earned an unimpressed poke to the side as she squalled in protest. "Oi!"

"Do not attempt to outdo me in the manner of words," he replied sternly, but there was a teasing note underneath it. "You know that I will defeat you every time."

Willow sulked, looking up at him with a pout but not letting go of him. "Loki Silvertongue, they say. He's an ambassador, they say. Well _I_ never get to hear any of his smooth talk," she grumbled loudly.

Loki bent down, smirking at her as he fingered her hair. "Is that so, dearest?" he asked smoothly, and Willow realized why too many girls had fangirled over Loki. Not that she thought _that_ way about him, but it was understandable. "Would you like me to make my pleasure in riling you known?" And his eyes held pure mischief.

Willow played along, selfishly wanting to see him smile at her one more time. "I don't know, I didn't know I was _that_ special," she deadpanned, and earned another flick to the nose for that one. She scowled at him as his smirk grew.

"We are the children of the AllMother. Are we not special, even if we are false children?" he asked, only a slight tinge of bitterness in his tone. They both loved Frigga as a mother, and they knew it even as they agreed that Odin wasn't worth being called a Father to anyone. He may be AllFather, but he sure wasn't good when it came to actual parenting.

"Oh, maybe _I_ am," Willow sniffed, knowing that Loki would understand that she was not criticizing him.

"Because you're the youngest," he sneered, and she gave him a betrayed look.

"Mean!" she cried, and detached herself from him to stomp away. "Just because you're my big brother doesn't mean I get to be teased-" she was cut off with a resounding scream as the ground gave out under her feet and she began to plummet down a Wonderland-looking hole. She heard Loki laughing as his face appeared in front of her.

"Sweet dreams, little Sapling," he cooed, before everything went green. Typical.

* * *

"Willow! Willow, Dad says you gotta wake up." A hand was shaking Willow as a little voice spoke up. Willow's eyes snapped open and she sat up, hands poised to defend herself. It had become a habit since she had started dream-sharing with Loki and waking up every night to battlefields or worse. A moment later she had snapped herself out of it, yawning and stretching while looking at the bedside blearily.

"When am I ever _not_ going to fall for that," Willow muttered sourly to herself, then peered at Lila. She immediately woke up. "Oh! I'm sorry Lila, I'm awake," she said, immensely grateful that she hadn't hurt the poor girl. "Next time, please throw something at me to wake me up," she smiled, and the girl nodded sheepishly.

"Okay. Daddy told me to tell you there are waffles," she said, and Willow looked at Fenrir.

"Thank you, Princess." She smiled. "I think Fenrir would like to give you a ride downstairs." She winked, and saw Lila's face light up. Fenrir heaved himself off the bed and knelt while Lila scrambled on, and Willow smiled as the girl squealed when Fenrir took off. Getting up painfully, Willow dressed in a pair of clothes she saw folded next to the bed and went to wash her face, allowing a few bitter tears to escape down the drain as well. She wanted to change it, but she couldn't. She couldn't. What could she do? Washing up, she tied her hair back in a ponytail with a strip of green cloth she found tied around her wrist (Loki that sly tsundere) and stumbled down the stairs until she gracefully face-planted on the dining room floor. Cooper and Lila burst into laughter as she hauled herself up and glared at the threshold, muttering sourly.

"Stupid piece of wood," she grouched, sitting up to rub her toe. "Burn," she hissed at it, earning more laughter from the kids.

"Good morning, sunshine." Clint towered over her with a smirk on his face. She stared up at him for a moment with sticky eyes.

"You're not supposed to wake me up," she accused, crossing her arms. Natasha was watching with amusement over her plate of waffles, while Laura just looked resigned.

"Hey, I saved waffles for you!" he said in mock-hurt, clapping a hand over his chest. "Didn't I, kids?" he appealed, and Cooper laughed in his Dad's face.

"No, Mama saved some that you wanted to eat," he replied, and Willow pointed a triumphant finger in his direction.

"See!?" she declared, crawling towards Laura and the kitchen counter. "This is why I like your kids. And appreciate Mrs. Barton." She grinned sleepily up at the amused Laura, who handed her the plate. "Thanks!" she chirped, then dragged herself back to the kitchen floor where she proceeded to bite into the waffles.

"Aren't you going to at least use the table?" Natasha asked while Clint sulked.

"No," Willow replied through a mouthful of food while Fenrir wandered over. "Can't be bothered, plus I gotta share," she said, ripping off a piece and giving it to Fenrir.

"Won't he get sick?" Lila observed from Fenrir's back as the wolf mouthed the waffle carefully before deciding he liked it.

Willow suddenly put the waffle down, looking up at Laura and Clint. "They've heard of mutants, Willow, go ahead." Clint waved his hand.

Cooper sidled up with Lucky, looking at her expectantly. Willow nodded, then looked up at Lila with a faint smile. "He's not exactly a normal wolf," she replied. "I'm a mutant, and he's my friend who works with me." She held out a hand to Lila, who took it and slid off. "Watch." She nodded at Fenrir, who proceeded to shift, to their shock. Fenrir stretched, ruffling up his strawberry blonde hair and snitching a waffle from her plate.

"It was getting annoying to not speak," he remarked, and stuffed the waffle in his mouth.

"Your manners are horrific," Willow replied blandly, picking up her plate and stalking into the kitchen to eat the rest of the waffle.

"Who cares, I'm a wolf!" he called back. "Hello Lila, Cooper. You can still call me Fen," he added.

"Wow, you're a shapeshifter?" Cooper finally blurted.

"No, I'm a wolf that also has a humanoid form," Fenrir replied simply. "I believe you call us werewolves, or something of the sort," he mused.

"Cool!" Cooper cheered.

"Lila?" Fenrir sounded faintly nervous, and Willow froze while turning to Fenrir in concern. Laura watched from beside her as well, while Nat and Clint hid smiles.

Lila tilted her head. "How is your hair blonde?" she queried interestedly.

"It comes from my mother," he answered somewhat sourly. "She had lighter hair than my Father."

Lila nodded, eyebrows scrunched as she looked at him. Fenrir managed a crooked smile, displaying fangs as he reached out to place a large hand on her head. "Your brown eyes remind me of my aunt," he said, and Willow choked on her last mouthful of waffle. She bent over the sink, coughing herself to tears while Clint burst into loud laughter and the others looked confused. Laura was grinning as she pounded Willow's back.

"Was that supposed to be a compliment?" Willow choked, pounding her own chest. Fenrir tilted his head.

"But you do have brown eyes," he replied with bewildered innocence, and Lila and Cooper stared at Willow with wide eyes.

"Okay yes! He's my nephew by adoption. That doesn't mean you-" she cut herself off with a groan, facepalming.

"How?" Cooper asked in confusion, while Lila went back to staring at Fenrir. Her wide eyes sent Willow into another coughing fit.

"He's um... It's a long story," Willow replied weakly, and turned to Laura. "I hope I'm not in trouble for being responsible for your daughter's first crush," she whispered sheepishly, and Laura laughed back.

"It'll never work, but I have to say she has good taste," she replied mischievously, and Willow started doubling over with laughter.

"What was that?" Clint asked suspiciously, while Nat sent them a secret grin.

"Nothing!" Laura replied, turning back to the counter still laughing.

The phone suddenly rang, and Clint went to get it while Fenrir stood, swinging Lila onto his shoulders while grabbing Cooper and loping out the front door as they shrieked in delight. Lucky trailed after them happily enough. Nat suddenly looked up and stood, tossing her plate to Willow before disappearing after Clint. Willow caught the plate just barely, putting it gingerly in the sink.

"I'm glad Clint brought you," Laura suddenly said, and Willow started.

"O-oh," she stammered, but Laura cut her off.

"Fury and Coulson have supported us this far, and we owe a lot to them. But I don't know what to think about them recruiting you into SHIELD. You need a family," she went on, washing the dish while Willow rinsed and dried it, setting it in the cupboard and listening patiently. "I've already told Clint that you're telling the truth." Laura looked her squarely in the eyes, and Willow returned the look calmly. "You're welcome here whenever you need a place." She turned back to the sink, wiping her hands. "Besides, no matter what Nat and Clint says, they need someone who knows about their lives and accepts them anyway. I'm family, so I don't necessarily count," Laura said softly.

Sensing she was finished, Willow waited a moment, trying to figure out what to say. "I don't know what to say," she finally laughed softly at herself. "However you decided that I'm trustworthy, thank you," she said simply, at a loss for words otherwise.

Laura smiled, handing her a glass of grape juice that she took gratefully. "You're not the only mutant in this family." She winked, and Willow blinked before suddenly reaching out mentally as Loki had taught her. Sure enough, a maroon colored aura met her with a delicate but iron signature. She sucked in a breath.

"I'm stupid not to have felt that," she breathed, and Laura sent her a questioning look. "I'll teach you," Willow offered. "There's a technique you can use to sense the energy signature of a mutant or magic-wielding person to identify them," she said, just as Clint and Nat came back in.

Laura nodded, looking interested. "That would be helpful," she replied, and Willow agreed with a smile.

"Fury's called us in," Clint informed regretfully, kissing Laura while Willow looked towards Natasha.

When Nat looked at her, Willow was surprised to see that the red-haired Russian's eyes were the most open she'd seen yet. "You too," she told Willow, and Willow's head swiveled towards Clint.

"All three of us," Clint confirmed. "You're under Coulson too, and apparently he's been put in charge of the mission this time. Plus, Fury wants to talk with you," he added, and Willow stiffened with a frown.

"Compatibility," Nat suddenly said, and it clicked in Willow's mind as she relaxed.

"Oh," she said with understanding, and turned to Laura. "Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs. Barton. I hope to see you again soon," she said gratefully, and Laura hugged her readily.

"Come back safe and sound, do you hear me?" She raised an eyebrow, and Willow laughed as she curtseyed in the Asgardian fashion before sweeping away to call Fenrir.

"Your wish is my command, dear Queen of the castle," she called back as Clint chuckled. She stepped out on the porch. "Yo Fen!" she yelled. "Get yourself over here!"

A giant Wolf Fenrir with the two kids on his back came bounding across the yard, Lucky streaking after with his tongue lolled out. They skidded to a stop just as Clint and Nat came out as well, geared up. The kids took one look and groaned. "But you just got back!" Cooper whined, sliding off, and Clint and Nat hugged them while explaining.

Fenrir trotted up to Willow. "Looks like it's starting," she murmured, and he nodded back.

"Will we return?" He glanced towards Lila and Cooper, and Willow quirked a smile.

"This is our safe house. They are now family," she replied softly, and Fenrir nodded.

"Bye Willow. You'll come back, right?" Lila asked, and Willow stooped to gently hug the girl.

"I sure will, Lila, if you'll have me." She grinned, tapping her nose. "Make a painting of Fen for me when I get back, okay? That way we won't forget what he looks like," she chuckled, and Lila perked up with a nod.

They said goodbyes, and after waving to the forlorn four on the porch, they headed for the Quinjet. "You seem to know how to work with kids," Clint noted.

Willow almost recoiled as they boarded the jet. "Noooo," she replied in horror. "I just know the basics about your kids, and based on that I grew to like them. But otherwise, you couldn't usually get me near them," she sighed. "I'm _not_ good with strangers at all, you'll see," she said gloomily.

Clint laughed at her as the door closed and they grabbed onto straps, Fenrir curling up in a corner, normal-sized. "Should've guessed," he replied. They lifted off.

"Get cozy, we've got two hours," Natasha called, and Willow dived towards the front.

"Shotgun!" she yelled, and heard Clint hiss.

"Hey!"

Willow turned around to stick her tongue out at the sulking Hawkeye. "I got dibs first," she said smugly, and made herself comfortable in the chair. "So, any tips for a rookie?" she asked Natasha hopefully. Nat set it on autopilot, turning towards her.

"Act around Fury like you did around me, and you'll be fine," was the blunt answer. "He prefers people who don't take any nonsense."

"Knowing myself, I'll probably botch everything like I did with you guys, but whatever." Willow shrugged helplessly. "I ain't a spy," she snorted.

"I just realized you probably know a lot about Fury, don't you." Natasha looked at her with interest. Willow peered back, pursing her lips.

"I'll spill if you promise never to tell," she replied conspiratorially, and Natasha grinned like she'd hit the jackpot.

"You know me." She spread her hands.

"Can I trust an assassin like you?" Willow teased back, and Natasha sent her an amused look.

"I don't know, can you?"

"Ohhhh, better make a good choice here, Willa." Clint came up behind the chair.

Willow pretended to think. "Okay well I'll pretend I didn't hear that obvious pet nickname, and I'll also tell you guys that there are always risks in battle," she said, rubbing her hands in glee.

"How do you know which ones are right, _Willa_?" Clint asked, stressing the name innocently. Willow glared at him.

"You wait and see if they succeed," she retorted.

"I'm currently hearing a lot of talk but not the kind I'm looking for," Natasha commented dryly.

"Well he lost his eye being betrayed by a good friend, was put in charge of quite a few operations that I don't have clearance to and technically shouldn't know about, found out about Iron Man via Nat and started the Avenger's Initiative- but you already know this stuff, let's go back. He was a CIA agent during the Cold War and was instrumental in bringing it to an end - don't ask me for the details, they're muddled - then gained attention when he was recruited to SHIELD by Alexander Pierce and became director. Mainly after disobeying Pierce's orders and staging a rescue for some hostages including Pierce's daughter. Then Pierce was promoted to World Council." She shrugged nonchalantly, trying her best not to cringe at Pierce's very name.

"I know that you know this stuff but it still throws me for a loop every time," Clint muttered, shaking his head. "You are valuable." He clapped her shoulder, and Willow suddenly shut down.

"Exactly," her voice went wooden.

There was an abrupt silence. "I won't lie, kid, Fury will probably keep you close if he finds out about what you know," Clint said quietly.

Willow looked up at him, then turned to Natasha. "I trust Director Fury," she suddenly said, and they looked at her. "I know he's _the_ Spy, and I know that there's stuff he's doing that I don't agree with. But I still trust him, because he only means the best for this world and Phil Coulson trusts him and you two trust him. He's a human and he makes mistakes, but out of all this mess that I'm going to be bringing in, he's the only other one in SHIELD besides you three that I'm about to tell my story to. Although, let's please keep the part about me knowing about future events hush-hush. Messing with the future isn't a good thing." It didn't help that Willow felt like a hypocrite saying it, knowing she was going to and had already tampered with it slightly. Slightly.

"You're going to tell Fury?" Natasha asked, and Willow wasn't sure what Nat was feeling about that by her voice.

"Just some things. Like who I am and what I know about him and the other projects, and the Avengers Initiative," she suddenly paused. "I'm not gonna lie to you about this, but I'm honestly trying to work my way into his inner circle to have the authority to pull strings," she said bluntly, knowing she would take them by surprise. "There's a couple pieces of information I will keep to myself that we will all benefit from when the iron is hot enough," she said vaguely.

"Y'know, I don't know what to think about you. You're confusing me like only Nat ever did. You seem like a terrible Agent because you're telling _us_ this, but at the same time you're a devious little skunk that I'm really beginning to root for," Clint remarked, and Willow gave him a feral grin.

"Have you forgotten, dear sir, that I am a Stark?" she asked, and Nat suddenly laughed.

"I think we will get along just fine, Willow," she said, holding out a hand that Willow took with some surprise. "I am liking the way you're thinking," she said, and Clint sighed.

"Yep. We're doomed. Why does Coulson have to pick up strays?" he mourned.

"Well you're pretty smart too, taking me into your house so Mrs. Barton could assess me," Willow drawled.

"Should've known she'd tell you that too," Clint muttered. "She's a soft heart."

"That's what _he_ said," Natasha remarked, and Willow gave her a high-five while Clint retired to the back in disgust.

"Thanks," Willow said softly, leaning back in her chair, knowing that Natasha would know what she meant.

Natasha glanced at her. "I trust Laura," she replied with a steely undercurrent, and Willow hid her smile. Foundations had been forged. It was time to set plans into motion.


	10. Author's Note - Don't Panic!

_Hey guys! Sorry I've been away for so long, finals hit me and over Christmas break I've been traveling nonstop and my wifi has been really spotty. Also, my beta has had a bunch of things come up too, so both of us have been out of commission for a long time._

 _Just wanted to drop this note to say that hopefully I'll be back within a week, I think, and I'm going to attempt to update more than I did before. My next update should come sometime either during this weekend or early next week! Thanks for being patient everyone, and thank you for your continued support!_

 _New followers and favorites, thank you and welcome to the family!_


	11. Reintegration: Success-?

_Hey guys! Sorry it's taken me a while, longer than I'd anticipated really. College just sort of smacked me in the face with reality haha._

 _Anyway, here is the promised offering, my lords and ladies, and please enjoy! Excuse any mistakes, my beta didn't get to edit for me so any mistakes I didn't catch are on me._

* * *

According to Willow's calculations, it had been a year since the "big week" when Thor had defeated the Destroyer and Tony had been set right after his palladium poisoning madness. Since Steve was now being defrosted, that meant that the Avengers Initiative was winding down as a shelf project and Phase Two had been started. If Willow could get this right, she might be able to boot the Initiative back up with her arrival as a valuable bargaining chip for SHIELD, which she would allow for the time being until the time was right for her to topple SHIELD around the same time Steve did and rebuild it from almost literal scratch. As for her being a bargain chip: she knew Steve, could prove to be lure for Tony, and also had plans about Doctor Banner. Natasha had been charged with watching over him, and Willow had _plans_ for General Ross, especially his daughter. The sooner she could get hands on JARVIS and her brother, the better.

"Willow," a slightly amused voice said, and Willow started as she looked up into the smiling face of Phil. She grinned.

"Hi. Sorry, I was planning world domination," she said cheekily, and Phil chuckled, glancing at Fenrir trotting behind her.

"I'm not even going to ask." He glanced at Clint next to her. "I got the transcript of her background." He tilted his head towards Willow, who felt slightly annoyed that she hadn't guessed that Clint would do that. Clint sent her a guilty look that Willow waved off.

"Thanks," she said simply. "Saves trouble for me."

Phil nodded. "I'm here to take you to get debriefed by Fury, Willow. Agents Barton and Romanoff will be informed of their next mission in the meantime," he said, more business like, and Clint sent her a questioning glance that time. Willow nodded at Phil as serenely as possible, even if she was sure they could hear her heart thumping.

"We'll be there," Natasha said easily, dragging a reluctant Clint away. Phil turned to her as they started walking down a hallway of the main SHIELD base in New York.

"I received two transcripts from Clint. One was for my eyes only that I destroyed after reading, and the other was your official document that will go under SHIELD files and be read by others that have access," he said casually, and Willow blinked.

"Oh," she managed, and felt like smacking herself. Genius answer, Willow. Of course Phil would know her real story. He was her handler after all. "Thanks," she quickly followed up, trying to get used to the fast pace things went at here.

"You'll get used to it." Phil read her easily, and she smiled.

"I'll try," she said.

"I'll have Delta catch me up on any new developments, and come back to get you once Fury's satisfied," he went on as they entered an elevator and went up, and this time Willow was prepared to read into the statements. Delta was the team name for the two assassins, and developments meant the other stuff they'd talked about on the jet that he'd need to know.

"Thanks, I'll be ready," she answered swiftly, taking the file he held out to her and subtly telling him that she was prepared for Fury's questions. "I'm sure Team Delta will inform you of everything," she added for good measure, just as they arrived at the door.

Phil knocked after glancing at her to show he'd gotten the message. A voice behind the door answered, and he opened the door, motioning them in. Willow gave him the most confident smile she could muster, then stepped inside with Fenrir close behind. The door clicked shut, and Willow clutched the file as she forced herself to walk inside the large office. It was made to look imposing, she decided, considering the large screens and leather chairs that she could remember from the Captain America movie.

Fury looked up from his desk as she entered, and as soon as she saw him, Willow felt strangely relaxed. Here, she was safe. Even if Fury didn't know her, this was one of the safest places in the world to be, physically. As long as she was on the right side. The black eyepatch gleamed under the lights, and Willow put on her best pokerface, which she knew was pretty good according to others.

"Sit, Agent Freya," Fury said curtly, pointing to a chair in front of the desk. Willow approached and sat down, setting the file on the edge of the desk.

"Pleasure to meet you, Director," she said politely, while Fenrir curled at her feet. Fury gave him a glance before focusing on her, setting his pen down.

"Tell me about yourself, Agent," he said, picking up the file she'd set down and flipping through it.

"My name is Willow Freya Stark, born in 1927 and declared officially deceased in 1943 at the age of sixteen. My father was Howard Stark and I was the first mutant of the century. I was also involved in Project Rebirth, a patient of Doctor Erskine, and the mascot of the Howling Commandos. Adopted sister of Thor due to unexplained circumstances and now eighteen years of age, ready to report for duty under Handler Coulson," Willow immediately said, voice even and mild. Fury looked at her sharply with his one eye, setting the file down and folding his hands on the desk.

"So your file says. Would you mind elaborating?" he asked, leaning forwards.

So Willow explained, about her coma and the dream - omitting how far into the future she'd seen, of course - and how she didn't know how she ended up on Thor's home world, and how she ended up where she was now. For good measure, she added that Laura Barton had declared her truthful as well as Agent Romanoff. Then she dropped the bomb. "I'm also an inadvertent and uncalled for level ten," she added, and Fury looked at her for a long, long time. Willow wondered if he could see her sweating, and dearly hoped not.

"You would make a terrible liar, I do believe," Fury finally said.

"I am. I'm a wonderful selective truther though," she replied, lips twitching as her fingers twiddled nervously.

"And apparently a terrible agent," Fury noted pointedly.

"Well no one knows about the details I know about level ten projects." She shrugged nonchalantly. "Even stuff about yourself you thought you'd buried."

Fury's lip curled slightly. "Then let's see how much you know," he goaded. Willow, seeing an opportunity to pull strings, complied.

She told him about himself, Cold War and eye and Pierce and everything. She mentioned the operations that were still running under heavy cover despite all official paperwork. She even mentioned the names of Project PEGASUS and Phase Two. By the time she finished, still outwardly collected and straining every fiber of her brain to see every angle of this scene, Fury looked like he was forming plans as well. He leaned back in his chair.

"And what, exactly, is your reason for wanting to work with SHIELD?" Fury asked, and Willow knew she'd found a string. She practically yanked it.

"Several. It's a win-win situation for you, honestly. You get a level ten agent who is a mutant and a Stark, and I get a job that I want to be in. All I ask for is that I get to be there when Steve Rogers wakes up, I get to be the one to convince Stark to join the Avengers Initiative, I get clearance to level ten information and authority, and my handler is Phil Coulson." She studied him from under hooded eyelashes. "Surely it's not so bad of a deal?"

Fury leaned forwards without a blink, eye boring into her. "And if I don't buy that that's the only thing you want?" he asked, and Willow remembered Natasha's advice.

"Phil brings in lots of strays. They turn out to be good for you, Grandpa Fury, and bad for the World Council. This is my world too, and I want to be a part of protecting it," she replied with a clear grin in his direction.

Fury looked like he wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose. Instead he just leaned back. "First tell me what you know about Thor," he sighed, and Willow obliged readily enough.

"He's a friendly. Just keep an eye on Erik Selvig, Jane Foster, and Darcy Lewis, and you'll have his gratitude and friendship. He cares about this world. He considers it to be under his personal protection," she contributed, knowing that that wouldn't harm anyone.

"Is that all?" Fury asked her somewhat acerbically.

"That's all I know of him at this point," she said, raising her palms.

"And is that all you know about the future?"

And now we get to the real point, Willow told herself dryly. Fenrir's ears pricked. "Future knowledge only goes so far, and even if I was sure about what might happen, it's prone to change," she said simply. Fury eyed her carefully, but she had told the truth. Selective truth, but truth nonetheless. For the time being, the Director seemed satisfied.

"And what makes you think I won't tell the World Council about you?" he asked, and Willow tried to tamp back her grin, only partially succeeding.

"Me in their hands? What a disaster, Director. Besides, I'm pretty sure it's default SHIELD protocol to keep things _out_ of the World Council's hands," she said as blandly as possible.

He slightly glared at her, but said nothing. "This is your deal," he finally said, sliding the contract across to her. Willow picked it up, skipping to the fine print at the back. After a few minutes of careful scanning, Willow was satisfied that there weren't any suspicious little clauses that might promise trouble later.

"And my clearance and other minor requests?" she asked mildly.

"Clearance will be issued right away and the rest are just your duties," Fury replied, and she nodded before signing the paper and handing it back to him. "Coulson is at the door, I believe," Fury dismissed her, and Willow stood with the file and contract back in her hands.

"Thank you for your time and compliance, Director." She smiled smoothly and bowed, Fenrir following after her as she left. Fury said nothing, and as soon as she had breezed past Coulson and was in the elevator, she slumped to the floor. Fenrir nudged her as she patted his nose absently.

"I have never been more relieved in my life," she croaked, while Phil chuckled.

"I can imagine, what with the many bullets you had to dodge," he said, and Willow knew he'd been filled in.

"Glad you understand," she said, handing him the file along with the double-message.

Phil flipped through the contract and files, eyebrows raising. "You've pulled strings," he observed.

"It was probably bound to happen either way," she grumbled. "I'm too young for this espionage stuff," she groaned.

"You'll get used to it," Phil reiterated. "You're about 67 anyway, remember?"

"Well _now_ I do, thank you very much," she grouched sourly as he chuckled.

"Team Delta has been sent off on their mission. Your work space will be prepared as soon as possible. If you need anything today, you can come work in my office. I'll get the clearance card for you as soon as we get a picture taken," he informed, while Willow nodded.

"Sounds good!" she agreed as they left the elevator and began walking down hallways.

"I checked up on him," Phil finally mentioned, and Willow stifled her smirk despite the sudden pang of sorrow as she realized that Anna had been so much like Phil.

"Oh?" Willow asked with interest.

"They've put him in a room that's designed to look like older New York," he went on, and Willow tilted her head.

"Once I get clearance, I'm doing my work in there," she declared, and Coulson sent her a small smile even as they entered a large office.

"I'm not surprised," he admitted, and then proceeded to grab a huge camera and take pictures of her in front of the large bay window. The form for the card was sent out immediately, while Coulson instructed her on stuff she'd need to know. She wouldn't really be a major Agent as far as official paperwork, more a field Agent like a Team Delta, which she could accept just fine. Peachy, in fact. Another Agent dropped by a few minutes later with the card and a 1940s outfit, and Willow tucked the card into her belt after donning the new 'uniform.' Fenrir's tongue lolled out as he looked at her, and Willow huffed.

"Don't look at me like that, Fen, that's how clothes were back in the day," she grumbled, foregoing the hat.

"Here. We'll get you a better one later but for the basics it should work for now," Phil said, handing her a tablet. Willow took it with a smile.

"Thanks," she said, and he nodded.

"Should I take you there?" he asked, and Willow smiled openly that time.

"Eh, another excuse for you to see Cap works for me." She winked, and earned a resigned sigh as they walked out, Willow laughing as Fenrir decided they were mad.

When they finally arrived in the room, though, Willow was silent and slightly pale, wondering if it was a good idea to be here. Like it was for Steve, her memories of saying goodbye to him and Bucky were still rather fresh, and the wounds were still bleeding like a paper cut - superficial but with pain through the roof. The roof of the palace in Asgard. Swallowing, she set the tablet on a table next to the bed and sank into the chair, not noticing when Phil quietly let himself out. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to look at his face, feeling the comforting presence of Fenrir on her feet. Steve's face was peaceful, and his hair was so neatly combed that Willow had to crack a smile.

"I bet it was Phil," she told the unconscious soldier confidingly. "He's such a big fan of yours I'm surprised he's not asphyxiating yet. I promised him you'd sign his cards," she informed the super-soldier, then curled herself into a ball on the chair, placing her head on her knees and looking at his face forlornly. "I can't wait for you to wake up," she whispered. "I miss you, Steve. I still owe you an apology for not saying goodbye."

Steve didn't move, but the way his chest rose and fell assured her that he was alive and well, and that he would wake up sooner or later. Hopefully sooner. Willow just stared at him for a while, thinking about her life. After some time, she finally reached out and touched his arm hesitantly as though he would sit up and punch her, even if she knew that he'd been moved about quite a bit. Like Bucky and the cryofreeze, it would take some time for Steve to fully come out of his suspended animation.

Shoving away all thoughts of a certain Big Brown Wolf Brother, she instead focused on how hot Steve's temperature was. It was due to the serum and his increased metabolism that his normal temperature was higher than other humans, and Willow had taken advantage of that quite a few times before. She loved warming herself next to the golden furnace, especially when her sickness caused her naturally low temperature and blood pressure to plummet dangerously. It warmed her hand now, and made her feel relieved and safe. For the first time that day, Willow felt at peace. She had (she sure hoped) gained the trust of Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, and Phil Coulson, and she had faced Fury, and it was over.

Sighing, Willow pulled her hand away and picked up the tablet, opening it and making sure it was on mute before scrolling through the SHIELD files downloaded on the device. She finally managed to find the information she was looking for after being sidetracked too many times, and opened it eagerly.

Peggy Carter, founder of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. Current whereabouts: Veterans Nursing Home.

Willow looked at the picture of the older woman for a moment, thinking about the woman _she_ knew from all those years ago. The one who'd shot Steve's shield when he first got it. The woman who had asked to borrow her Dad for a life-threatening mission to help the men they both loved. The woman who gave Steve permission to get close to her when she asked. The woman who did so much for them all, and for America. The woman who had loved and was loved by Steve Rogers. Not captain America. Not the hero. The man. Tears welled in Willow's eyes, and she blinked them away, determined to take Steve to her as soon as possible after he woke up.

After saving the page, Willow then went on the Internet and tried to look up all she could on Tony Stark. Surfing the net for a good two hours, she finally concluded that the events of Iron Man Two had already happened and that Three would take place after the first Avengers debut, which was frankly both terrifying and relieving to her. She next went to find the position of General Ross and Doctor Betty, finding that she had to pull rank to access the information. Apparently Fury was keeping a careful eye on the man. As Willow found out, Doctor Betty (she refused to call her Ross because that woman was too good for that name) was being held at an army scientific research base on the outskirts of Washington D.C. by order of her father. Willow curled her lip, then tucked away that fact into her mind. She'd get around to seeing about that issue, just they wait and see.

It was early evening by the time she finished looking up all she wanted to, and Willow was more than ready to sleep. After debating it in her mind, Willow decided that it wouldn't hurt and climbed next to Steve, huddling up at his side while Fenrir slept lightly on the floor. Double checking that the tablet was safely stowed away where Steve wouldn't see it, she allowed his soothing heat to cause her to drift off.

She didn't know that Phil and Clint refused to allow anyone to move them.

* * *

It was cold. Freezing cold. That's really all Willow knew or could feel. Freezing cold, and a silence that scared her to no end because she had the distinct feeling that it _wasn't supposed to be this quiet in here._ Almost whimpering in pain because of the cold that was overcoming her, Willow crept painfully through the vast expanse of slushy misery until she finally saw movement.

When she approached, it was movement she _didn't_ like _at all_. It was, in fact, a giant mass of darkness that leered with red eyes, looming over her like the personification of every nightmare known to mankind. Distinctly annoyed and unimpressed, Willow pointed a blue finger at him - because she felt it was a him - and glared. "No," she hissed, and immediately the thing was siphoned into her instead. Her head ached from processing and accumulating to the new addition, and she stood there for a few precious moments while her lips turned purple.

"Hello?" she finally whispered in exhaustion, feeling her heart sink when there was no answer. For once, Willow despised her skills. This was too real for her. Dreams are often harsher than life itself, and she'd already fought outmatched battles and faced demons from the underworld itself with Loki; she didn't want this! Willow finally stumbled into some semblance of a clearing, where the temperature was still too low but noticeably warmer than where she had just been.

Shivering violently, Willow collapsed against the ice-less floor and curled up in a ball of cold and pain. She hardly noticed when the temperature began to get a little warmer, and the slush disappeared. She did notice, though, when a hand landed on her arm.

"Doll?" a familiar, hoarse voice asked, and Willow burst into tears. Guilty tears, sad tears, pained tears, she didn't know and had the feeling it was all of them. Raising her stiff hands helplessly, she pleaded through sobbing for help. For warmth. There was an answer as someone grasped her hands, then sat down and wrapped themselves around her. Willow curled into the physical contact, shivering and crying.

"Don't cry, Baby Doll," the voice rasped, and Willow bawled, clutching him.

"Bucky!" she finally wailed. "Bucky!" She wanted to tell him she was sorry. She wanted to cry that it wasn't fair. She wanted to make sure he knew that she didn't mean to leave him, that she loved him so much.

"It's fine, Willow," Bucky's voice answered, and the _understanding_ in his tone was enough. Willow stopped crying. It wasn't because she was relieved. It was because Bucky could still forgive, even after all this time. Forgive the fact that she left him alone to freeze in this frozen slush of his battered mind.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she finally whispered. "I love you. I love you," she whimpered, burying her face into his neck, noticing vaguely that his hair was longer now. That hurt. The realization that he had already done a _certain_ mission almost had her losing it again. She'd never see her father again, or get to know her step-mother. She'd _never_ know them again, never get to tell her father goodbye. Why? Because of the man she loved as a brother. The man who she left alone. The man who forgave her.

"I didn't mean to. I didn't," she said over and over like a broken record.

"Doll, you sure you don't need help?" Bucky's half-pitying, half-joking tone made her poke his chest softly.

"Don't," she sighed. "Just don't."

There was a silence for a while.

"Hey Willow? Will anyone ever find me?" he asked weakly.

Willow's head shot up so that she was looking straight into his tired blue eyes. "I'm workin' on it. I promise," she said as firmly as she knew how. "I'm working on it."

His smile was crooked, but it was _there_ , even if it was a little ragged around the edges. "I'm depending on ya, sweetheart," he chuckled, but there was a strained tone in his voice.

"I met Natasha," Willow whispered, playing with his hair. Bucky's head turned to her.

"What?"

"She joined SHIELD. It's an Agency developed by Stark and Peggy Carter to continue the good work of protecting freedom and people," she replied with a smile. "Nat's one of the best agents and I work with her and her partner."

Bucky blinked. "She works with others? You're an Agent? What'd I miss?" he practically demanded, and Willow had to swallow thorns and needles to keep from blurting _other_ things he'd missed and was missing.

"She was picked up by Agent Barton, who was told to take her out but made a different call. They're the best Team Duo in the entire agency, and I just recently joined the team. You'd be proud of her, Bucky. You should be. She's amazing. Doesn't trust easily, but still incredible," she said, calmly making little braids in his hair. Whether she was calming herself or him, she wasn't quite sure.

"Good. That's good. Knew she had it in her." Bucky smiled faintly but proudly, and Willow felt an ache in her chest. Good thing she'd gotten used to that ache long before now. Loki forbid anyone finding out that it was from fandom feels, though.

"How long you gonna be gone this time, Doll?" He sounded so forlorn she wondered her heart didn't break. Once she found him, he wasn't leaving her sight. Nope. No. Absolutely not. Or Steve's if not hers. They'd take shifts.

"I don't know," her voice cracked. "I didn't mean to stay away so long, but I couldn't help it. I didn't mean to. I hope I'll come back sooner this time," she sighed, leaning against him again. Bucky held her tightly like a pillow, ignoring the single braid that his hair was now sporting.

"I know," he replied, resting his head on hers. "But every time you come back, I get to keep a little more. Every time you come back and they put me in the blender, I come back a little faster. I wish you didn't have to go," he groaned.

"Why can't you fight them off? Just run. Go," she asked, though she knew what the answer would be.

"I _can't,_ Willow. They have trigger words. Somehow they flush me out long enough so I can't do anything. And by the time I think I can have enough control, here comes the words or its back under." He sounded frustrated to no end. "I just _can't._ "

Willow said nothing, just clinging to his shirt. "I'm sorry," she whispered wetly again. "I'm trying. I'm trying."

"It's fine, Doll. I'll wait. As long as it takes," he murmured into her hair, and Willow almost started bawling again.

"I should be the one comforting you," she tried to protest weakly, and Bucky laughed dryly.

"No chance, sugar. Who's the one always comforting you and Steve?" he teased back, and Willow wondered if he still thought Steve alive. Perhaps if he didn't know the time. She still wondered, though. Probably HYDRA would have kept any and all news away from him about Captain America.

Willow barely managed a smile. "I wish I could say it was me," she humored him, and they chuckled together.

"Y'know, they told me he's dead. I don't believe them," Bucky said gravely. "He's not dead, Willow, is he?" There wasn't even hope in his voice, just an expectation for confirmation.

"No, he's not dead," she replied softly.

"Did you tell him about me?" Bucky asked quietly, and Willow smiled.

"We're looking for you. To the end of the line," she said confidently, and Bucky closed his eyes before leaning over her again.

"To the end," he murmured, and Willow could feel herself waking up.

"Love you," she whispered. She wasn't sure if she was glad or mad that she didn't get to hear an answer.

* * *

"Why is she steaming?" A voice was hissing.

Willow's eyes shot open as she whimpered, clutching onto whatever she was holding 'cause it was really, really warm, and she needed that right now. Her eyes slowly focused on a rather muscly arm, and Willow yelped before jerking away and promptly landing on her backside on the floor.

"Now I'm really disturbed," a voice said above her, and she peered into Clint's face for a good ten seconds before recognizing him.

"Eh?" she asked intelligibly, then yawned and ruffled her already-Afro hair.

"You were literally steaming a minute ago when you were holding onto Steve. Now you fall off the bed. What's going on?" Clint asked, sounding a bit spooked.

Willow sat up and shook her head, looking down at her arms that were indeed letting off some faint wisps of steam. "Oh. I dream-hopped again, and it wasn't pretty." She winced.

"Dream-hopped? Did you enter a fire or something?" he asked incredulously. "Besides, isn't it just a dream?"

Willow gave him a _look_. "No, they're not 'just dreams' because I am physically affected by what goes on in the dreams I happen to end up in. There's a fire? Run 'cause it's gonna hurt like a real one if I get caught in it. End up in Siberia? Well guess what you're dressed in pajamas so when you wake up and come in contact with something pretty warm then you steam." She pointed at her arm as she explained in a flat tone. Clint looked at her like he'd never seen her before and was sporting green skin.

"So you mean when you dream-hop you actually _visit a dream._ Like, for _real_ ," he clarified, and she nodded stiffly. "Can you _die_?"

She snorted. "No, but I sure can get hurt." She said sourly. "Got impaled a few times visiting a veteran's dream." She tried not to laugh hysterically at her own description of Loki. That one was never becoming known to anyone. "Hurt really bad." Then she turned to Steve and sighed. "Wish you'd wake up soon, Commander, 'cause I've got work to do with you," she said morosely, ignoring the soft sounds of the tinny radio on the dresser.

"I see you slept well," Fury's dry voice entered the conversation, and Willow looked up at him.

"Yessir, and I expect I will be for a while," she replied just as acerbically, making Clint smirk discreetly.

"Better watch that he doesn't wake up before you," Fury said with a straight face, and Clint outright snickered.

"I'm a 67 year old teenager, cut me some slack please, Director. I do my job just fine as long as I get a good night's sleep," she rallied behind her own bland expression.

"As long as you don't make a laughing stock of the Agency. There's already been questions as to why you're a level ten," Fury replied, more coldly this time.

"You're the boss, Director Fury. I'm just following my orders because Agent Coulson recruited another stray mutant who's a powerful asset to manipulate for the greater good and allows it because she's got food and a place to stay," she answered just as seriously, legs swinging over the edge of the bed. Fury stared at her good and hard for another minute.

"That does not explain a level ten," he finally said.

"You're the boss. Maybe I'm a level ten because of my skill for dream-hopping and summoning _dangerous_ creatures and _maybe_ keeping me close might be a good idea," she said in a most blasé tone.

"Get back to work, Agent Freya," Fury commanded before sweeping away.

Willow slumped as soon as she was gone. "One day, I'm gonna slip up really badly and then I'll be the fish in a tank of piranhas," she said wearily. "I don't know how much longer I can play this game."

Clint sat next to her on the bed, both of them keeping a subtle eye on Steve. "Hey, you've got me and Nat and Phil right? You'll be fine," he said with a grin, patting her on the back. Willow smiled weakly at the DaddyHawk, knowing that one day Wanda and Pietro would be the new members of the Hawknest.

"Don't know about Nat," she laughed dryly. "She'll probably kill me sooner than defend me."

"Nah. Nat doesn't trust real easily but when she does she _does._ I can probably count on one hand the number of people she trusts. I'm pretty sure you're getting to be one of them, 'cause you still haven't said anything to anyone about our pasts and you haven't exploited any of her weaknesses despite clearly knowing." He shrugged, effectively ruining his eloquent little speech.

Willow blinked at him. "I'm pretty sure that Nat doesn't really have too many weaknesses, and the ones she does I'm not even _capable_ of exploiting," she finally said, and Clint laughed.

"You're right," he chuckled, then stood up. "Anyway, I'm guessing that you're not leaving this room 'till he wakes up, so I'll just bring you a takeout or something. Sound good?" he asked, and Willow grinned gratefully.

"Chinese?" she begged.

"Twenty minutes," he replied, on board with her odd choice of breakfast, and she sighed.

"You're a lifesaver," she declared, and Clint left still laughing.

Willow went to sit on the chair again, and Fenrir plopped his head on her lap. "Hey Fen." She grinned at him widely. He grunted back. "Aww, what's with that?" she whined.

"Hungry," he growled, and her eyes widened.

"Okay sorry, food's coming I promise," she said hastily, and he subsided. "You're lazy, you know that? You lay around so much..."

Fenrir snarled at her, and she held up her hands. "Fine, but don't blame me if you get slower and fatter," she warned, and merely received a huff. "Ungrateful," she accused, and earned a whack from his tail.

Clint came back to find her on the tablet again, doing extensive research. As soon as she sniffed the brown rice and soy sauce, her head jerked up. Clint set it next to her. "Wonder if Cap will like it," he said by way of greeting. Willow grinned wryly, setting down the tablet to pick up a carton of rice. Grabbing a paper plate, she scooped a bit of everything and set it in front of Fenrir before turning to the food herself.

"I don't know, we didn't have Chinese takeout back then. I missed so much food," she sighed as she practically inhaled it.

Clint took a few bites himself. "It's weird knowing you were born then and grew up now, only to die back then too. That doesn't even make sense," he observed.

"Don't ask me," she said helplessly. Then after a moment, "Do you think we're being very professional, eating Chinese takeout while watching over Captain America?" she asked, lips twitching, and Clint snickered.

"The stories we could tell," he snorted back. "This is shaping up to be a good day."

Willow's smile faltered at that. "Yeah," she said quietly, sighing.

"Something wrong?" Clint asked, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Nah, I'll be fine." She shrugged it off.

"Do you know when he'll wake up?" Clint asked at length, and Willow shook her head.

"Maybe someone does, but I'm not one of them," she replied.

They finished eating in silence, Willow giving Fenrir all of what was left for him to finish it off. "When are you planning to drop the big news to the big guy?" Clint queried, while they stared rather creepily at Steve. Willow huffed and shook her head.

"I have no idea. I was hoping maybe to at least get Steve settled into modern life before doing that," she groaned, reaching up to rub her head. "Dealing with everything isn't easy. Why did it have to be me?" she asked for the billionth time.

"You don't have to do this you know. You don't have any obligation to do any of it," Clint said seriously, and she snorted. He just did not know.

"No, DaddyHawk, I have every obligation to," she sighed. "The things I know, and the way things might go if I don't use that knowledge wisely; there really isn't even a choice for me," she said wearily. "On top of just plain duty because I live in this world too and I'm an idiot who's decided to try to protect it, I've got emotional ties to a lot of people. Steve, Stark, you, Nat... Others. Maybe you guys don't know me, but I know you, and I care about all of you. What person wouldn't try to help the people they care about?" she asked, slumping in her chair. "I'm not doing this because 'it's the right thing to do.' That's Steve's shtick, and I'm honestly not that unselfish. I'm doing it because I selfishly don't want the people I care about to get hurt or worse." Her lip curled. "I don't think I'm strong enough to live without them. I'm a supremely selfish and clingy person when it comes to family... I'm pretty sure it's a Stark thing," she reflected, thinking about her father and brother.

Clint was quiet for a few minutes, obviously processing her words. "And what about the people you don't have a particular connection to?" His voice was low and could mean trouble.

"I value all life," she said serenely. "I may be a Mutant, but I don't look down on people just because they're not. I don't look down on Thor because he's what we'd call an alien. However, you can't always save everybody and inevitable sacrifices have to be made for the greater good," she said, more softly. "I've lived during a World War. I've lost people I knew. Maybe that's why I tend to be jealous over people I choose to make my family and not let too many in too quickly," she finished, voice slightly stiff.

"So you're obsessive," Clint deduced, and Willow laughed bitterly.

"I have been diagnosed with OCD, yes," she said dryly.

"And that's why you kept fixing the dishes in the cupboard." He sent her an odd look, and she blinked, startled.

"Yes," she answered simply.

"Called it," he said with a triumphant grin, leaning back.

"And you're not helping the rumor that you've got ADD," she pointed out.

He gave her an offended look. "What kind of agent has ADD?"

"You, apparently." She relished the look on his face.

"That was a low blow," he accused, and Willow scoffed before waving a dismissive hand.

"Nah, I'll leave that to Nat. Now, I'm busy," she said, and immersed herself in the tablet again. "Thank you, food deliverer," she added as a Parthian shot.

"This is outrageous. I'm being dismissed by an eighteen-year old who just labeled me as a delivery guy," Clint grumbled, packing up the food containers to throw away.

"A level ten agent who has stuff to do," Willow said from the depths of her tablet.

"Little skunk," Clint grumbled before retiring in high dudgeon.

Willow just sat, and wondered when Steve would wake up.

Lunch had come and gone, with Phil dropping by to check up on Steve and give her a bagged cafeteria lunch which actually wasn't too bad.

So far, Willow had also managed to uncover the current information about Stark Industries and its CEO Virginia 'Pepper' Potts. She was honestly relieved to see Pepper in Tony's life, knowing how much she did for him. She'd definitely want to get to know the woman, especially since she shipped Pepperony to no end and wanted to push Tony to actually pop the important question.

According to the reports, Stark Industries was the only big name in clean energy, so that was a good indicator that the Avengers timeline was rapidly approaching. If she was going to be on time and get the major stuff done for preparing for Avengers, then she was going to have to be hyper aware of what she needed to do and when.

For one thing, she'd have to explain things to Steve and help him get used to modern life. If he liked the idea, she could move in with him wherever SHIELD put him and help him that way. Another thing, she would have to somehow give him the news that Bucky was still alive and they needed to be looking for him. She had absolutely _no_ idea how to do that, and had the sinking feeling that she wouldn't get the chance until after the Avengers had formally assembled and he met the Winter Soldier for himself. That would have to be an issue dealt with carefully, which made her want to throw up just thinking about it.

Not to mention, she would have to also try to get to know Tony. She'd come clean about herself right away, of course, and make sure that he knew that she wasn't trying to manipulate him to join SHIELD. That wouldn't be too hard, though, considering a little piece of information she was holding that would seriously change the entire ballgame. Speaking of which, she needed to start using her clearance to poke around for those files anyway, which would probably be buried miles deep in the system somewhere. She didn't even want to _think_ about how to tell him that Bucky was the one who had... no. Not now. Cross that bridge when it came time and hope that she wasn't going to lose her brother because of it.

Willow had put the tablet away for a while to sort out her thoughts when she suddenly noticed movement in the corner of her eye. She had gotten used to the rise and fall of Steve's chest as he breathed, and she knew that he slept ramrod straight out of habit due to army barracks, so the break from the familiar pattern immediately caught her attention. Without even taking time to see if it was real and not a false alarm, Willow bent down to poke Fenrir.

"Fen, get out and wait by the door," she hissed, not wanting to take chances, and Fenrir did as she asked quietly and quickly. Sitting on the chair comfortably, Willow watched Steve calmly as he began to slowly stir, not wanting to give him the feeling of being watched like a hawk. Her heart fluttered wildly with excitement and nervousness, and she watched as he slowly opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling. The radio was still sounding tinny, though Willow hadn't bothered to change the obviously wrong recording. Maybe, she hoped, she'd be enough.

Then, Steve gingerly sat up, looking around with some alarm, before turning his head and meeting her eyes.


	12. Reunite, Reimagine, Reacclimate

_I felt a little guilty for being so late, so here's another chapter for you guys. :) You all have been amazing, thank you so much for your patience and support! Welcome to all the new followers. Again, all typos are on me, I apologize._

 _Please,_

 _Read!_

 _Enjoy!_

 _Review!_

* * *

Willow's plain brown eyes met Steve's radiant blue-green ones, which were tinged with wariness and a confusion that made her chest ache. Some bewilderment flittered over his features for a moment as he looked at her.

"Hi, Steve," she said softly with a shy smile. Her heart sank when Steve's eyes hardened.

"Where am I?" he demanded.

"You're in New York City. They pulled you out of the wreckage and you are now coming out of suspended animation," she replied calmly, standing up with her hands clasped in front of her. "Welcome home," she said simply.

Steve looked around. "This isn't home," he finally said, voice hard. "I know that ball game. I was there. And you're not who you pretend to be," he sounded absolutely offended at that, and Willow felt a bitter laugh bubble in her throat. She was flattered.

"Steve-"

"Who are you?" he demanded again, more dangerously.

"My name is Willow Stark," she said resignedly, knowing that she wouldn't be able to stop the mad dash that would follow, though she didn't blame him.

"No!" Leaping up, Steve ran for the wall and jumped, surprised when the 'wall' gave way easily and shattered into glass fragments. What he didn't expect was for Willow to have already dived out the door and leapt on top of Fenrir, who was ready to run.

"It's fine, I've got it! Stand down!" Willow yelled to the chaotic hallway. Fenrir barreled after the fleeing Steve, chasing him out of the building and into the Main Street of the Big Apple. Steve stopped in the middle of the road, looking pale and staring around him. Willow slid off of Fenrir just as two SHIELD cars came up. She waved them down and approached the confused soldier.

"Stand down, soldier!"

He turned to her.

"I'm sorry about that whole fiasco back there, I tried to tell them it wouldn't work, but they wanted to break it to you slowly in fear of... this." She gestured around.

"Break what?" Steve asked, sounding more lost than anything.

"You've been asleep, Cap," she said with a sigh. "For almost seventy years."

Steve stared at her in consternation.

"You alright?" she asked.

"Yeah... I just... I had a date," he said forlornly, and Willow secretly wondered if he meant Peggy or was wishing that he could have kept his 'to the end of the line' promise to Bucky. Willow's lips twitched.

"If you'll come with me and let me explain, I think I can fix that," she offered, holding out her hand. Fenrir waited patiently by the car. Steve looked at her for a moment.

"Sure," he finally said, sounding defeated more than anything. Willow turned and walked to the car, getting in with Steve clambering in after. Fenrir sat at her feet, while the door closed and the agent silently drove back to the base.

When they arrived, Willow just quietly led him to the empty office next to Coulson's, closing the door but not locking it. Fenrir flopped by the door, keeping watch over them. Steve just sat in a chair, while Willow went to the coffee maker to brew a cup for Steve. Once it was started, Willow perched on the edge of the table, untying her shoes and letting them drop to the floor.

"How may I help you, Steve?" she asked patiently, letting him know that she'd wait as long as he took.

"Who are you, really?" was his first blunt question, and Willow smiled sadly.

"I know, Steve. I died, you were there at my funeral, you cried, Dad never said a word or shed a tear. You saw me buried," she sighed, looking up at the ceiling. "Truth is, that body was dead but I wasn't gone. I'd just left for somewhere else that I didn't have control over. It's hard to believe, but this is the reason. There are people who have differences in their body cells. Those dormant cells come to life, stimulated by something, and then take over the body and change it. They receive abilities that are not normal for other people, kind of like you with the serum but on a genetic level," she said, tapping her chest and looking back at him. "It gives them longer lifespans as well, like you. I'm a mutant, and my sickness was because of the changes I was going through. My body didn't survive it, but my soul wasn't gone. I kind of... teleported somewhere else. I really am Willow Stark, and to prove it, Bucky once called me honeybunches and I told you to make him stop," she added, looking at him with a faint smile.

Steve's eyes pinched at the mention of Bucky, but he looked at her with dawning hope. "Willow?" he finally asked, and Willow's smile wobbled.

"Yeah," she whispered, looking down. "I missed you, Steve." She swiped at her eyes. "You and all of them."

Steve stood up and came to her, hugging her. She hugged back, sensing that he did it just as much to reassure himself as it was to comfort her. "I believe you," he said quietly, after a few moments.

"I'll tell you the rest of my story later," she promised, then detached herself to pour a cup of coffee for him. "Sugar and cream?"

"Neither, please," he replied, and she stifled a smile before handing it to him. Wait 'till she told him that that was called an Americano these days.

"Alright, story time," she said more seriously, perching herself back on the table. "The thing is, you fell in the ice but your body went into suspended animation. It's another side effect of the serum. It didn't let your body die but rather preserved it, which was also helped because of the ice so your body didn't degenerate. It's called suspended animation. After years of searching, they finally found the Valkyrie in the ice. The ice was always shifting, so it kept submerging and resurfacing. They found you inside and brought you back here to thaw you out. The current date is May the twentieth, 2010," she said, keenly watching him for any signs of panic or overload.

He merely sipped at the cup, slowly processing the information. "I see," he finally said quietly. "Who exactly found me?"

Willow dragged in a breath, just as the phone in the office rang. "Gimme a moment, that's probably my handler or boss," she said calmly, and picked up the phone.

"Would you care to explain what's going on?" Fury's voice was cold and demanding.

"We're fine, Boss. Captain understandably had a little panic but it's resolved and we are now in the office next to Coulson's while I explain things. Everything is under control," she said soothingly, channeling Loki.

Fury sighed. "Fine. Get him updated and bring him up." He hung up without another word, and Willow sent the phone an irritated look before setting it back in the cradle.

"Sorry. Boss wasn't sure what was wrong," she explained, then sat back on the table as Steve nodded warily. "When you left and after the war was over - Allies' victory obviously - Dad and Agent Carter made a separate organization to continue the work that you started: keeping the people safe from hostile forces both within and without. They named it the Security Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division, more commonly known as simply SHIELD," she said blandly, sending a wry look in Steve's way and squeezing a faint smile from him.

"Peggy retired all in good time, and is still alive if more elderly now. Her life was full, and..." she hesitated, glancing at him somewhat guiltily.

"Any kids?" Steve asked quietly, and Willow nodded.

"Daniel Coulson, and two kids," she replied softly, kicking her feet childishly. "She's 87 now. I managed to find out where she's living." She left it there for a minute, then went on. "I joined SHIELD not long ago and got assigned to you, due to... y'know," she said somewhat awkwardly, feeling oddly like she wanted to either cry or laugh.

"What about Howard?" Steve asked, though he sounded like he knew the answer.

"He's dead," she mumbled, blinking back tears and looking down at the floor. Fenrir's hackles raised as he stared at her. "I'm fine, Fen," she reassured him hastily. Steve glanced at the wolf warily.

"I'm sorry. How did he- do you-" He bit his lips, cringing.

"Car crash," she said shortly. "Didn't make it. Wasn't there for any of it," she added bitterly, then swiftly changed the subject.

"I know there's a lot of other stuff, but let me take you to boss first as he asked. We'll get you a place to stay and I'll explain more. Is that okay?" she asked, peeking at him, and he nodded back wordlessly, finishing the coffee. "Thanks. C'mon," she said, and led the way to the door. Fenrir padded next to her, ignoring Steve for the time being. The other agents stayed clear as they took the elevator to Fury's office floor. Willow laughed slightly at Steve's slightly terrified expression at the glass windows. "They won't break." She patted his arm carefully. "By the way, don't be scared of Director Fury. He'll respect you if you take no nonsense," she said as they exited and she knocked on the door.

They entered the office, and Willow sat on a couch while Steve approached the desk. "Hello, sir. I've been told that you're the director of - SHIELD." He glanced at Willow, who nodded calmly. Fury stood, holding out his hand to shake with Steve.

"Glad you're feeling fine, Captain. Welcome to SHIELD," he returned the greeting simply while also glancing at Willow, who gave him a self-righteous expression.

"I'm assuming I'm to be working here?" Steve asked somewhat unsurely.

"If you'll agree Captain, it would be very appreciated," Fury answered, though there wasn't really much of a choice based on his tone and blank expression.

"Boss, where's Steve and I gonna stay? You haven't given me an apartment yet and saving an extra one would be convenient right?" Willow spoke up innocently, ignoring the raised eyebrow she got.

"Is the Captain on board with that idea?" Fury addressed Steve, who almost immediately nodded, looking frankly relieved.

"That would be appreciated, sir," he replied.

"You'll be given a floor in one of our staff buildings," Fury finally said. "I'll have Coulson give Agent Freya the contract for you to sign when you get ready. We'll be waiting for you whenever you're up to it, Captain," Fury said in what was a rather clear dismissal, and Willow let Steve thank the Director before loosely grabbing his hand and leading him out. They got in the elevator, and Steve looked a little exhausted and flummoxed.

"Honestly, I'm not sure what just happened," he admitted, and Willow grinned.

"I'll let you know when we get to the apartment. SHIELD owes us both a wardrobe too, come to think of it," she said thoughtfully, then shrugged cheerfully. "Coulson will fill us in," she said confidently. "Just hang in there a little longer, then we can rest," she promised, and he nodded while Fenrir just stared at Steve with what Willow translated as a thoughtful look.

Willow peeked in Coulson's office, and he looked up at her from a desk full of papers. "Memo?" she asked hopefully.

"Just got it. If you'll wait at the first floor someone will pick you up with keys to the flat. My apartment building, floor close to the bottom. I'll get the other necessary stuff later this evening," he said hurriedly, and she nodded.

"Thanks Phil, you're a hero." She blew him a kiss and whisked back out.

"C'mon, Steve, we'll go wait on the first floor," she said, holding out her hand. Steve took it rather gratefully, letting her lead him slowly and carefully to the elevator to wait in a small room. He sat down, putting his head between his knees as she sat next to him and patted his back.

"It's okay," she said softly. "It's okay. I know exactly how you feel," she commiserated. He just sighed, holding onto her hand while Fenrir whined quietly. Willow patted his head with an apologetic look.

A knock on the door made Steve straighten and Willow call to enter, and an agent looked in. "Agent Freya? I'm here to take you to your apartment," he said with a glance at Steve. Willow stood.

"Thank you," she replied thankfully, and led Steve out and into the car. They arrived at the apartment quickly, which Willow was grateful for because Steve was starting to look like he was shutting down as the shock officially set in. The agent handed her two key cards that had holes punched in the top.

"Second floor, ma'am," he said, and Willow nodded as she took the cards and hurried Steve out and into the building, Fenrir following behind dutifully. She hustled them up to the second floor, then swiped the cards and entered an already-furnished apartment that was obviously move-in ready. The blinds were drawn, and Willow made Steve sit on the cloth couch while she went to the fridge. She was relieved to find it already stocked, and poured some cool water for all three of them. She set Fenrir's bowl in front of him and handed Steve the other before setting hers down and thoroughly checking the apartment for bugs. There were none, and she finally sat down again with a relieved sigh.

"Drink, Steve," she said pointedly, and he idly picked up the cup to drink without really processing it. "Steve, I may be good at a lot of things but handling a panicking super-soldier isn't one of them. Tell me what you need," she urged, leaning forwards to gently touch his hands. He looked at her, eyes clouded, and she moved to sit on his lap gingerly, slowly leaning against him. She relished his heat.

"You're cold," he said distantly, wrapping his arms around her. Willow half laughed and half sobbed.

"I've always been cold, Steve," she managed, tears falling down her cheeks. "You're one of the very few who could ever get my temperature up enough."

It seemed to work as Steve stopped retreating into himself and instead came back to the real world, hugging her a little more tightly.

"Tell me," he finally said, and she didn't have to ask him to be more specific. She slowly told her own story, catching Steve up on recent events while she was at it. She left out Bucky, of course, but everything else she told him. It took several hours, with Fenrir also piping up now and then to prove her story (Steve had had another shock with that one), and by the time Steve was satisfied with all he wanted to know, it was already almost dark. Steve told her his own story as well, about what he remembered and both of them crying over the Commandos and especially Bucky. It was almost like a therapy session, unforced and wanted.

When they finished, they just sat there for a while, caught up and enjoying being together again after so long. It was a comfortable silence, and one that Willow could have thanked the Voice for. She felt so much better, now. Steve was here. Steve knew her. Steve trusted her. She was safe.

"Guess we'll have to get used to it together, huh?" Steve finally said, and Willow laughed weakly.

"You mean I'll help you navigate society now while you protect me," she joked, even if it fell a little flat. Steve chuckled though, which she took as a plus.

"Course," he replied, and Willow stirred.

"How bout you go claim a room? Coulson should be here any time and I'll get the stuff," she said, and Steve nodded before going to find a room. Just as he left, the doorbell rang as if on cue and Willow went to answer it.

"Hey," Coulson greeted her with a tired smile.

"You okay? You look awful!" Willow replied, inviting him in.

"I won't stay long, just drop these off," he said, stepping just into the doorway. Willow took a bag that he handed her, along with another large, wrapped parcel that Willow had an inkling she knew the identity of. Phil's look at her confirmed it. "Managed to get clearance to give him this. Might make him feel better. There's also a card in there under the name Willow Freya for you to get yourself and him necessary stuff when you need it," he added. "Your uniform and two pairs of causal clothes for both of you are also in there, along with a contract for him."

"Thanks, Phil. You're really a life saver," she said with a genuine if just as exhausted smile.

"Therapy?" he guessed, and she nodded.

"You know it. If you drop off those cards, by the way, I'll get him to sign 'em," she added nonchalantly, and he sighed though he gave her a grateful glance.

"Tomorrow morning," he promised, and she grinned.

"Sure. Goodnight, Phil," she said softly, and the tone of her voice let him know that she was thanking him for more than just the supplies. He just gave her his unmistakable, unflappable smile and nodded back before leaving. She closed the door and took the bags to the living room, leaving the contract on the table while taking the bag of her stuff and the other one towards the bedrooms. Steve poked his head out of the room on the right, while Fenrir peeked out the left.

"Mind if I drop in?" she asked with a smile, and he wordlessly stepped aside to let her in. She placed the bags on the neatly-made bed.

"This is something Phil managed to get clearance to let you have. He was sure you'd like to keep it," she said, setting the round bag aside.

"Thanks," Steve replied, though she couldn't really tell what he was thinking by his voice.

"Here's a pair of causal clothes for you to wear tomorrow," she went on, placing the larger pair of slacks and an oversized tee on the bed. "Feel free to sleep in tomorrow, and if you're feeling up to it we'll go shopping for clothes and stuff," she said, and brought out another card and handed it to him. "This is the key to the flat," she finished.

He took it with a nod. "You can use the shower anytime you like. Turn the handle in the tub to the left for hot water and to the right for cold," she said simply, and then gave him a faint smile. "Night, Steve," she said, then took her stuff and left.

"Goodnight, Willow," he replied quietly, and the door closed.

Willow put her things away in the room Fenrir claimed for her and himself, telling him her plans for tomorrow if Steve was willing to go out. Fenrir nodded back, and she took a quick shower before going to bed.

If all went well, she promised herself that tomorrow would be a fun day, the first she'd had in a long time.

When Willow woke up the next morning, it was to roll over and see that she had woken up pretty early. Six, in fact. Knowing that she wasn't going to sleep any longer and half wondering why she hadn't dream-hopped, she just quietly rolled out of bed and got dressed in the nondescript pair of blue shorts and a little oversized blue tee that felt comfortable. Fenrir had woken up and was looking down at her now, since he had morphed into human form.

"Why do you think he accepted your story so quickly?" Fenrir asked about Steve, and Willow smiled at him faintly.

"Well, Fen, for one thing, he knows I'd never lie to him. We trust each other, and that's the basis of our entire friendship. Another thing - Steve isn't exactly pragmatic about the universe because honestly, he's a super soldier made by science that defeated another super soldier gone wrong and supposedly died trying to confiscate the Tessaract. I don't think he has any problem dealing with mutants or the idea of Asgard, not after all that," she said, and Fenrir had to agree.

"Anyway, c'mon. We'll go make breakfast, yeah?" she asked, and Fenrir nodded as he opened the door for her and waited for her to go out. "Why do I get the feeling you're only being polite because you want food?" Willow asked suspiciously, and rolled her eyes when she received a fanged grin. "I thought so," she grumbled.

Steve was apparently still asleep, so Willow just began to look through the fridge. "I know both of you eat a lot compared to normal people," she muttered, digging around. Thank the Norns that the fridge was large and stuffed full already. She began to pull stuff out of the fridge, while Fenrir watched with interest. By the time she was finished with both the fridge and cupboards, she'd brought out bacon, two cartons of eggs, potatoes, pancake mix, a can of tomato sauce, beans, and more.

"What could you possibly make out of that?" Fenrir frowned, and Willow laughed.

"Just wait and watch me, Fen," she replied with a grin. Her dream mother may not have actually been real, but she'd been a good cook and she'd taught Willow too.

By the time Steve finally came stumbling out of the room, scrubbing his eyes, smells had permeated the entire flat and plates were set out on the kitchen island. Willow and Fenrir grinned at Steve as he smacked into the corner of the counter, grumbling.

"Good morning, mister freedom," Willow said cheerfully, dishing out more food.

"Morning." Steve ignored her jibe from years of practice and yawned, looking down at the food. "I don't think I've seen half of this before," he said in bewilderment.

Willow snickered. "Well then try it and see if you like it, Steve," she replied in amusement. Turned out, Steve and Fenrir liked everything: bacon, bacon pancakes, scrambled eggs with cheese, hash browns, some beans, and some fried vegetables. Willow had to give each of them two more servings in between her own meal until they were actually satisfied.

"One day, I'm going to get you two into a competition and see who can eat more," Willow declared, turning to put the dishes in the dishwasher.

"I would enjoy that," Fenrir chuckled.

"I might not," Steve admitted wryly. "Can I help?" he asked Willow, who nodded.

"Thanks. Rinse off the bean bowls please, and give them to me?"

He did so, and she showed him how to properly use a dishwasher. Once that was running, she rubbed her back and went to sit again. "I'll have to teach you a lot of things," she sighed. "New gadgets and gizmos galore."

"Any whosits and whatsits as well?" Steve asked with a slight smile, and Willow stared before suddenly laughing.

"I forgot Disney was out then. They've made more. We need to see them." She grinned at him.

"They did?" he sounded like a kid, which Willow found adorable.

"You're cute, Steve," she snickered. "I was thinking we could go shopping today. We need clothes and other stuff, and I don't know what kind of clothes you like," she said, and saw Steve wilt slightly.

"I know I'll have to go out," he sighed, rubbing his face. "It just... It feels..."

"I know, Steve," she said softly. "How do you think I felt waking up in what I thought was the past, and a fictional past at that?" She shook her head.

"I hadn't really thought about that," Steve admitted ruefully. "Anyway, it'll just get harder if I wait longer," he said, and Willow had to remind herself that Steve was only 21. That's it. He wasn't Captain America as other people saw him. He was just a young man, lost in an age not his own with no one familiar but her.

"Do you need to shower before we leave?" she asked, padding over to the window bare-footed to crack open the blinds. She was glad that she'd had the foresight to grab a pair of shoes for Steve yesterday.

"I took one last night," was the slightly vague answer that Willow could guess the real meaning of. She ignored it and nodded.

"Sure then. Just let me grab my stuff and we'll leave," she said cheerfully, going to get her hair tied up and shove her identification, credit, and room cards in her pocket, though not before making sure the neck tie was attached to the belt loops on her pants. At the last minute, she shoved a pocket knife in her pockets as well, just in case. She wasn't an expert, but hey, she knew enough from her time on Asgard to be able to defend herself against a street hooligan. Anything more and she had Steve anyway. Steve was ready when she emerged, and she gave him an excited grin as she slipped on her shoes. He smiled back, her enthusiasm apparently contagious.

"C'mon Fen!" She held out her arms, and Fenrir shrank before leaping into her arms as a puppy. Steve shook his head.

"Don't know if I'll ever get used to that," he muttered, and Willow laughed slightly as she opened the door.

"You will, trust me. I suppose we could take a taxi around town..." She wrinkled her nose slightly. "But what about the stuff? Oh wait never mind, we'll have it delivered," she realized, and got on the elevator with Steve.

"Where are we going first?" he asked, and Willow grinned.

"To get phones," she replied in amusement. "SHIELD will get us laptops and tablets and other stuff, but civilian phones are a must," she said. "I can't wait to teach you how to use a touch phone. That'll be interesting."

They exited the elevators and headed out, the streets being just a five minute walking distance from the road where they could catch taxis. Fenrir loped along behind them, pausing to sniff this and that once in a while. When they arrived at the road, though, a van came screeching up to the curb and the door automatically opened.

"Get in, you two! Phil tipped me off about you guys possibility going out," Clint's voice called, and Willow poked her head into the van.

"Yo DaddyHawk!" she yelled back, and Clint winced, rubbing his ear.

"Sheesh kid, I can hear you just fine you know," he grumbled.

"Oh, my bad, thought you didn't have your aids in," she said innocently before turning to a confused Steve. "C'mon golden retriever! DaddyHawk will take us around town. He's my surrogate dad at SHIELD. Good guy, Clint Barton. He's known for being a dead shot with a bow and arrow," she added, while Fenrir jumped in the back. Steve climbed in as well.

"Hello," he greeted somewhat awkwardly as the door slid shut.

"Hey Cap. Good to finally meet you. Has Coulson asked you to sign his-"

"Ahem! Did our handler send me a package?" Willow interrupted, poking Clint. He rolled his eyes.

"Here." He handed her a little case. "And stop poking me when I'm driving."

"Please, you can focus even if you have ADD," she scoffed, then carefully opened the case and peered inside. "I'm almost scared of opening this. Like I don't wanna get dirt on it. Or muddle my fingerprints with Steve's," she whispered reverently, while Clint started laughing so hard that Steve looked worried.

"W-what are they?" Steve asked, and Clint started laughing harder.

"Vintage trading cards, Cap," Willow said with a straight face. "Soon to be autographed."

"Of who?" Steve asked with interest, and Willow barely kept her pokerface on.

"You," she replied, and then couldn't help but start howling at Steve's slowly redding face.

"Oh," he managed, and Clint and Willow high-fived while Fenrir snorted at them.

"You're just the best, Steve," Willow squealed, then threw her arms around him in a hug.

"Whoa, cool your fangirling kid," Clint snickered, and Willow poked out her tongue at him while Steve mouthed the term. Willow could have sworn that she saw the lightbulb light up above his head.

"Don't get too smug, Steve. I'm going to be buying you a hat as soon as we get out so you don't get mobbed by people who might be fans," she deadpanned, and then started crying with laughter at his horrified face. "Clint, look at his _face_ ," she gasped, and Clint protested loudly.

"Not if you wanna stay alive!"

"Willow..." Steve groaned as Willow laughed unrepentantly.

"Anyway," she dried her tears and let go of him, "don't freak out at anything okay? It's weird out there but it's normal. If you wanna know what something is, just ask me. Don't ask Clint, he'll totally tell you it's something else," she added, and received a glare from Clint. "Where's Auntie Nat, DaddyHawk?"

"Work. I think she's trailing someone or something." He shrugged.

"Oh," she replied, just as they arrived in an underground parking lot. Willow opened the door and tumbled out almost on her face.

"She's beauty, she's grace, she's Agent Freya fall on her face," Clint jeered as he stepped out, and Willow huffed as Fenrir whined from the car, blocking Steve's way of getting out.

"Ask Steve to get you out Fen, I'm making sure Clint didn't leave any red marks from that burn," she hollered, brushing herself off while Clint roared. The door slid closed, and she finally turned around to see Steve holding Fenrir carefully in one arm while smiling down at her questioningly. Willow paused, mouth open, then gasped.

"Nope," she snatched Fenrir away, "you are _not_ carrying him around. I'll get mobbed by people asking me if my brother is single," she said in horror, thoroughly enjoying the blush that spread across Steve's face.

"U-um... How do we avoid that?" Steve scratched his neck while Clint and Willow looked at each other.

"Please tell me you know what I'm thinking," Willow begged.

Clint nodded gravely, then whipped out sunglasses and put them on with a serious look. "Okay Cap, here's the deal. Your name is Steve Grant, and this is your little sister Willow Grant with her pet alright? You're going around New York City for the first time to find a house because your parents died recently. I'm your suspicious-looking friend who decided to tag along. Sound good?" he asked seriously, sticking his hands in his pockets.

"You totally planned that since this morning," Willow accused, motioning to his gangster looking outfit, complete with the spiky hair and dark clothes.

"So? It's Cap," he pointed out with a roguish grin and began to saunter out.

"Well fine then, don't blame me for getting too much into the role," she grinned.

"What do you mean role? That _is_ you!" Clint called back.

"Touché!" she accused, then grabbed Steve's hand, grinning up at him. "You ready?" she asked. Steve seemed to be relaxed for once.

"Sure," he replied, and Willow pulled him towards the staircase. "By the way, anything you can think of that we should avoid?" she added in a more serious tone.

"Mainly just anything to do with huge blocks of ice and... mentions of War," he replied, and Willow nodded.

"Eh, then we should be fine. Oh, and by the way, don't forget to have fun," she said with a grin, and Fenrir's ears twitched. "Not you, I _know_ you'll have fun. People will probably be begging to feed you or pet you," she deadpanned, and Fenrir's tongue lolled out.

They finally arrived out on the huge shopping plaza next to Clint who was waiting, and they looked around. "Whoa," Willow breathed. "I have no idea where we should go first."

"Over there." Clint pointed. "There's a huge hat store there that I can remember." He started off, and Steve held Willow's hand tightly as they began navigating among the crowds.

"One sign of a panic attack and you tell me, okay?" Willow murmured to Steve, who nodded.

"I think I'll be fine. It's just weird seeing so many people again..." He looked utterly lost for a moment, and Willow squeezed his hand.

"We'll have fun today." She smiled encouragingly, and saw with relief that he relaxed again. "Late celebration," she cheered, and he nodded back.

"I'm glad you're here," and his voice was filled with true relief. She just grinned, heart full, just as they made it to the store.

"Hello, welcome to Headgear," a smooth and rich voice said, and Willow looked up to see an elderly African-American with white hair and an equally white smile.

"Hello! Is it okay if Fen comes in too? I'll hold him," Willow asked shyly, and the man chuckled.

"As long as I get to pet those fuzzy heads, Darlin'." He winked, and Willow laughed as she offered both herself and Fenrir for a head rub. "Wonderful. Now, how may I help you lot?" he asked, and Willow tugged at Steve while Clint wandered around, trying on the weirdest hats with much snickering.

"My big brother needs a hat," she said solemnly. "I wanna spend a day with him without getting mobbed with people askin' me if he has a number. He's _my_ big brother," she said with a pout, and Steve's entire face flushed as the man threw back his head and let out a hearty laugh.

"I don't doubt it, honey. How are you?" He turned to Steve, who readily shook the man's hand.

"Very well, thank you sir. My name's Steve Grant and this is my little sister Willow," Steve replied, sending Willow a chiding glance that she ignored, beginning to look around. Fenrir did as well.

"Oh, we should totally get him a veteran's hat," Willow hissed to Clint, who immediately had to smother his laughter.

"Done deal." He smirked. "You gonna get one?"

She gave him a glare. "I don't do hats," she replied with a sniff, and began looking for the hat. Clint was the one who finally found it and held it up with a triumphant grin.

"Yo kid, found it!" he said, and Willow snatched it from his hand to run over and plop it on Steve's head. It was dark green with the "World World II Veteran" logo on it, and Willow was laughing as Steve looked at her in bewilderment.

"Is there a reason for that particular hat?" the kindly old man asked with raised eyebrows.

"Inside joke," she choked, and Steve took it off to look at it before groaning.

"I'm not going to be getting a different one, am I?" he asked resignedly.

"Nope." Clint came up with a grin. Fenrir barked with clear laughter.

"Well then I guess that's that. I suppose it'll put some off though," the man chuckled, while Willow made a face and Clint cackled wickedly. Steve just looked confused.

"You're too innocent Steve," Clint snickered.

"Let's keep him that way, please. He doesn't need to know more about _fondueing_ than he already knows," Willow said with unholy glee, going to pay for the hat. Steve was left protesting as Clint plied him for that story.

"You come back and bring your friends to visit ol' James now, you hear?" James asked as he calmly handed back her card. Willow grinned.

"I think I may have a few friends who will want to visit later," she laughed, thinking of a particular few she'd drag here later.

"Good. Y'all have a good day now, and take of that precious young'n!" James hollered as they left the store, and they called back their goodbyes.

"So..." Steve looked somewhat hesitant.

"It was a long and hard battle, but blacks won their equal rights in time. Now they have the same rights as anyone else," Willow supplied, remembering the racial tensions that was still existent back in their day.

"Good," Steve sounded pleased. Willow laughed, remembering a certain black man but not mentioning any names.

"So, where do we get to wreak havoc next?" Clint asked while Steve pulled the cap low over his forehead.

"Go buy clothes!" Willow exclaimed, dragging them off towards the nearest clothing store. Clint groaned. "Don't whine, you've never shopped with me before." Willow grinned at them evilly. They entered, and Willow whisked Steve off to the sweatpants aisle. They found Steve's size and grabbed a few pairs that he liked before immediately checking out.

"No shirts or anything else?" Clint questioned as they exited with the bag.

"No staying in one store for more than one thing. It's boring," Willow scoffed. "Now, lookie what I found," she said with glee, and Clint took one look at their destination before turning to give her a high-five.

"Yes," he approved, and they dragged Steve into the shop.

"Look!" Willow squeaked. "Isn't it wonderful?"

They'd found a fan merch shop, filled with everything from the recent Iron Man and Iron Patriot to Doctor Who. "Over here!" Clint waved them over, and Willow felt Steve freeze up as they entered the huge aisle. She immediately squalled, rushing over to the hoodies.

"I want one!" she picked her size up and then held a larger one up to Steve. "Bigger," she declared, then got the biggest one. "Oh oh, and look! I want one of those too!" she said, dragging a shell-shocked Steve over to the shelf with all the comics, mugs, and smaller figurines. "We should get matching ones," she declared. "Hey DaddyHawk, d'ya think the house could use one?" she asked, looking over the mugs.

"Two. No, make it three," Clint immediately said, and she grabbed five.

"Stop looking like that big brother." Willow patted Steve's cheek, standing on her tiptoes to reach. He looked at her with a blink.

"I'm... I mean back then I know but-" He looked confused.

"He hasn't looked in a mirror," Willow told Clint, who was snickering again. "I mean his dame was so ready to eat him alive before he even got beefed up," she snorted, sending Clint into hysterics. Steve sent her a mortified look while she grinned cheekily. "Had to get you snapped out of it, bro." She patted his arm. "Besides, look, the irony. How can you resist?" she asked, holding out the hoodie. Then she skipped off to the Iron Man section. "I am obliged to have one," she said, and picked a hoodie that was red and gold with a blue arc reactor in the middle. Then they checked out, Clint distracting Steve from the price display, and they headed out.

"Undershirts, wear, and tees and shirts. Plus at least one formal suit," Clint reminded her.

"Don't forget me," she retorted. "I need lotsa stuff too."

"How are we gonna carry it?" Steve asked.

"We don't. We go buy and have them deliver to our complex." Willow shrugged back while Clint nodded. Steve looked amazed.

"Life now seems... convenient," he said, and Clint smirked.

"More than just that, but yeah," he agreed.

They finally managed to get all necessary clothing a couple hours later, including a formal suit for Steve and a formal dress and suit for Willow as well. "I'm starving," Willow complained. Clint checked his phone.

"Well, it's already one, so let's go eat," he said. "So, Fast food or formal?" Clint asked.

"You feeling like you're missing something, Steve?" Willow asked. Steve looked a bit dazed from all the shopping and ready for a break.

"Well.. I miss diner food," he admitted, and Clint nodded.

"There's a really good one a couple blocks away from here according to the map, plus a snazzy café right next to it. Up for some coffee and dessert after?" Clint asked, and Willow cheered childishly as Steve smiled.

"Sure," he said in his quiet way, and they headed for it. When they entered, the diner was fairly quiet compared to other restaurants nearby.

"Welcome to the Tick Tock Diner!" A cheerful waitress said, and they chose a small out-of-the-way booth. Steve slid into a corner while Clint sat across from them.

"This looks a little more like I remember," Steve said with a faint smile, and Willow tilted her head.

"Does it? I don't remember... I don't think I even went to a diner at an age old enough to remember," she said thoughtfully, then shrugged. "Eh. Dad wouldn't have taken me anyway. What's usually good at a diner?" she asked Steve, brushing aside the topic again. He picked up the menu.

"Usually the baskets are nice," he replied, pointing to the chicken and fries basket.

"I think I'm going to get a club sandwich," Clint commented, looking over Steve's shoulder.

"Then we probably need..." Willow tilted her head. "Six baskets?"

"What?" Clint sounded startled.

"Steve eats a lot, remember? Plus I want a basket and I have to get something for Fen," she said, looking down at the Wolf curled in her lap. He opened an eye to give her a demanding look. "Stop plotting my murder, I _know_ you're hungry," she huffed, turning back to the menu.

"So a club sandwich, six baskets, and two steaks. Oh, and four cokes," she added. Willow handed Clint the card as he went up to order, while Steve sat back. "You okay?" Willow asked quietly, slipping her hand into his.

"Just a little overwhelmed. I mean, I'm glad the War is over, and I'm glad that you're here to help me and all, it's just... so different," he said despondently. "I don't how to explain it."

"I do." She squeezed his hand back. "It's being in an entirely new world after dying. One you know and don't know," she said, and he nodded.

"I forget that you know." He looked down at her hand. "How do you do it?" He looked at her seriously. She laughed bitterly, looking down at his hand wrapped around hers, dwarfing it.

"I'm not," she admitted. "I've cried more than my share, I've screamed myself hoarse, I've messed up and I've fallen flat on my face. But I've gotten back up because I told myself I didn't have a choice. And I don't. But I also tried to manipulate my way into a situation where I could get what I wanted," she said, lip curling. "I found you, and I've got my team, and I'm in a place where I can pull strings. I don't really enjoy this, but I have to get myself a little dirty. At the same time though, I've got people I really care about," she said softly, smiling up at him.

He looked a little disturbed, frowning. "Why?" he asked.

"Because I _have_ to," she replied. "Steve, I know you don't get it. But I'm not... I'm not Captain America, who I admire, and I know I can't be that noble and self-sacrificing because I'm _not_. I'm selfish and I admit that, and I'm probably not changing anytime soon. I know you don't understand. But I promise, I _promise,_ one day it'll be obvious to you why. I promise that when that day comes, you'll see why I'm doing it and you can judge then," she said quietly but seriously, and then looked up at his blue-green eyes.

They stared for a minute, while Fenrir lay stiff but quiet in her lap. Then Steve nodded, eyes softening as a small smile crossed his lips. "To the end of the line," he said simply, and she smiled weakly at the old Commandos motto.

"To the end," she replied faintly just as Clint came up balancing some of the trays while a waitress slid the rest on their table. They dug in, Willow setting the steaks on the seat so that Fenrir could eat to his heart's content. Clint ate his whole sandwich, Steve five baskets, Willow one, and Fenrir both steaks. There was a hungry silence until they were done and sipping on their third coke refills.

"That was good," Clint sighed, and they nodded.

"Can we go get dessert?" Willow pleaded, and Clint and Steve chuckled before they left to go next door to the café. Willow volunteered to order that time, and got an Americano, Cappuccino, and Hot chocolate with three plates of fudge brownies. When it came out, Willow balanced them on two trays and went to the table in the quiet back corner that the others had chosen.

"You're my hero," Clint declared, grabbing his Cappuccino and beginning to dig into a brownie. Willow rolled her eyes as she handed Steve the cup.

"Hey Steve," she said, and Clint and Steve looked at her. "One hot Americano for the iced Americano," she said with the straightest face she could manage. Clint promptly choked on his coffee, snorting it up his nose as Steve looked utterly betrayed. His face was similar to the one he'd given Peggy when she shot his shield the first time, and Willow bent over double despite herself. Fenrir ignored their hijinks and instead stole a mouthful of brownie while taking a lick of her chocolate.

"That was _good_ ," Clint gasped, coming back up for air. They both broke down again while Steve tried to ignore them, drinking his coffee with a disgruntled look.

"Never stopping that one," Willow choked, and they somehow managed to calm down, though occasionally they'd burst into snickers when they looked at each other.

Steve told her that she deserved Fenrir stealing half of her stuff when she whined.

When they finished, they headed for the nearest phone center, which happened to be Apple. Willow and Clint had fun teaching the bewildered and awed Steve how to use a touch screen. She got two of the newest models of iPhone, and an hour later they had exited the shop with them and were swapping numbers. Clint sent her Phil, Nat, and his and Laura's casual numbers for good measure.

Besides clothes and phones and Bluetooth earphones, they also got some devices for the apartment like toasters, more towels, bathroom stuffs, and all the necessities. By the time they had decided that they had everything necessary, it was six in the evening and they were heading for home while picking up Chinese on the way. Clint helped them get the delivered stuff into the apartment before leaving, saying that he needed to get back before Fury skinned him alive.

"Thanks, DaddyHawk." Willow hugged him tightly as he chuckled and ruffled her hair.

"Take care of him, kid," he replied easily before waving at Steve, who also thanked him, and leaving. Steve and Willow unpacked, while Fenrir morphed and stretched, helping them.

They finally sat down to eat dinner at the proper dining table at eight. "This was a good day, on the whole," Willow remarked, and Steve nodded while deciding that he liked Chinese.

"Thank you, Willow," he said, and she nearly choked.

"For what?" she asked with watering eyes as she recovered herself. Steve handed her water.

"For not treating me like I was fragile. For forcing me to go out and see the world now before I could scare myself by thinking too much. For just... being here in general," he said seriously, and Willow looked down at her forkful of rice.

"I'm selfish, Steve," she said quietly. "I wanted to be there for you not just because I love you like a brother, but also because I wanted someone who would protect me and give me a sense of safety. I wanted to drag you out not only to expose you to the world, but also because I wanted to feel normal again," she said tiredly, rubbing the palm of her hand to her eye. "I did want to help you because I _care_ , more than anything, but I'm also _selfish._ "

"I know," Steve said bluntly. "You always have been. But the thing is, you balance it most of the time with honest care. You make sure that your wants don't make someone else suffer too much," he said. "I saw that since... back then. You might be a Stark, but I have to think that your mother was a good person that you inherited qualities from," he said, fork hovering in the air, and Willow breathed a laugh.

"Thanks," she replied, the corner of her lips twitching up. "You always see the best don't you," she resumed eating.

"Well I have to balance you somehow," he retorted, and she laughed.

After they'd finished and cleaned up, Willow took out the card case and handed him the pen that was tucked inside. He signed them dutifully as Willow looked on with interest.

"Remember that time I made you sign our picture?" she asked.

"Yeah. We should take another one," he said, putting the cards and pen away in the case carefully, and Willow whipped out her phone, opening the camera.

"Selfie!" she said, putting the phone on that mode. She shuffled over to Steve. "Look Steve, smile!" she said, and he grinned uncertainly while she held up two fingers and snapped the picture. "Haha, Steve's first selfie," she crowed, saving it.

"Take one on your phone!" she said, and he handed her his.

"I didn't know they could do that now..." he remarked, and she grinned.

"Now you can capture any moment you want," she agreed, and they snapped another photo. "That one goes on as wallpaper," she declared, and set them on their respective phones.

"Too bad I can't sign this one," Steve smiled at her, and she laughed back.

"Well, I'll get your autograph later," she replied smartly. "In the meantime though, I think I'm going to bed. It's been a long and fun day." Then she impulsively hugged him. Steve paused, then hugged her back.

"I missed you," she finally said, voice cracking.

"I did too," he replied quietly, and she soaked up his warmth.

"Good night," she finally whispered, and fled to her room. Fenrir waited until she had changed before sauntering in and lying on her bed, dragging her close to him.

"You really worry too much," Fenrir rumbled, nosing her hair. She snorted.

"You're one to talk," she replied curtly.

"Sleep," he replied, unruffled. Willow sighed and curled against him.

"Fine."

* * *

Willow felt confused. She was standing in the middle of the library in the palace of Asgard. "Loki?" she asked hesitantly. Instead of his familiar voice, Fenrir suddenly rounded the corner in his humanoid form, and Willow started.

"I do not think you are dreaming this time," Fenrir remarked, and ice suddenly gripped Willow's heart in a painful vice. Without a word, she suddenly began to run along the halls, Fenrir following after her in Wolf form. She finally made it to the throne room, bursting in as several heads snapped up to look at her. It was Sif and the Warriors Three. Before they could say a word through their surprise, Willow immediately back-pedaled and sprinted towards the royal chambers.

When she arrived at the doors, she knocked, her entire body shaking. There was an incoherent snarl from within, and Willow took that as permission to enter, closing the door behind her and searching wildly for Frigga.

"Mother?" her voice cracked, and three surprised faces looked at her. Odin was standing on the balcony, and he merely nodded curtly at her before turning back. Thor was sitting by his mother, and Frigga was sitting on a couch, looking at her with a tearful face.

"Willow, my child-" Frigga stretched out her arms. Willow's breathing accelerated, and she shakily approached the Queen.

"Mother? Thor?" she croaked again. "Why am I here? Where-?"

Frigga gathered her into her arms. "Dear one... oh my sweet daughter... I am sorry," she whispered. "He was pushed."

"Who?" Willow asked feverishly. Fenrir looked like he was guessing what had happened.

"Laufey," the Queen whispered back. "Your brother killed him."

Willow sank to the ground, unable to help herself. Yes, she knew she would see him again, but _they_ didn't know and she couldn't tell them and he was _gone_ and she didn't want him to be gone because she wouldn't know him the next time he appeared-

She didn't even realize that Fenrir had wrapped his arms around her until she felt wetness gathering in her hair. She clamped a hand over her mouth, sobbing as she buried herself into Fenrir. She cried for what Loki was going through, maybe even now. She cried for her family that she couldn't tell. She cried for her nephew who had lost his father. She cried for herself, and what this would mean for her.

She cried as Frigga and Thor joined them on the ground to hug as a family. But also, she cried for Odin, whose eyes reflected grief and regret for his adopted son.

After a while, Willow looked to Thor. "He... he told you everything?" she asked hoarsely.

Thor looked at her with swollen blue eyes. "Yes," he replied.

"Then you know... you know why..."

The blue eyes welled with bitter tears again. "It is my fault he died."

"No!" Willow insisted, and crawled into Thor's lap. "No, no..." She shook her head as he wrapped a thick arm around her. "He cared - we both cared. We wanted... we wanted you to be the best king you could be. I didn't want him to do it, but he insisted... I just wanted you to know that he didn't hate you..."

"No, he hated the Jötun," Odin said stonily from the balcony.

"He didn't mean to try to kill you..." Willow ignored him.

"I know. I owe him much," Thor replied, bringing Fenrir closer. "I am sorry, Willow, Fenrir. I did not behave as I should. I did not act as befitted a king," he said, and Frigga placed her hand on Thor's shoulder.

"You'll be a good one now," Willow whispered back, and Fenrir nodded with his head buried in Willow's chest.

"But I wanted him to rule with me," Thor said quietly, and Willow let the tears fall down her cheeks in a scalding wave.


	13. Old Brothers, New Brothers

_... You lot are spoiled. No, no, I jest, haha. I managed to get around to updating this week, yay! No promises I'll be able to keep this up, though I will try._

 _Anyway, as always please excuse any mistakes, they are all mine and I take responsibility._

 _To all new followers and favorites and reviewers, thank you and welcome! I hope you enjoy the journey with us._

 _Please,_

 _Read!_

 _Enjoy!_

 _Review!_

* * *

It had been a month since Steve had woken up, and Willow had helped him get assimilated as much as possible within that month. She hadn't had any other work in the meantime, and Steve had finally signed the contract with SHIELD and become an active agent. He hadn't had a mission yet, though, and Willow was sitting in the living room when the message came from Phil. It pinged up on her tablet screen, and Willow took one look before tossing it to the far side of the couch and curling up in a ball.

Steve took one look at her and immediately came to sit next to her. "What's wrong?"

Willow shook her head mutely, leaning into his arm with her head buried in her knees. It had been a month. A month in which she hadn't dream-hopped, even though she trained and tried so hard every night to somehow make it to Loki or Bucky. A month since she'd found Steve again. A month of pain for both her and Fenrir, especially since they were both still banished from Asgard and couldn't attend the formal funeral. Even if she knew he wasn't dead, she still mourned that he wouldn't be the _same._

She had also been keeping an eye on Jane and Darcy, who she had been planning to meet but hadn't had the chance yet. They were too far away anyway, and Willow doubted they would even believe that she was Thor's adopted sister. Besides, even if she wanted to explain why Thor hadn't visited, she wasn't sure she could properly explain without letting leak stuff that... SHIELD probably shouldn't know.

And now, on top of all of that... "They want me to stop procrastinating," she finally whimpered, falling on top of Steve's lap in a ball of misery. Fenrir looked up and blinked at her. He hadn't been taking his father's 'death' any better than Willow.

"They what?" Steve sounded confused as he looked down at her.

"I'm supposed to go tell my biological brother that his dead sister isn't dead," she hissed, looking defensive.

"Well I can understand why that would be nerve-wracking, but you can more than prove it. What's wrong?" Steve pressed, and Willow wasn't sure if she should be nervous that he knew her that well. On second thought, it was _Steve._ It didn't really matter anyway.

"Because they have an ulterior motive and I _know_ how Tony is," she replied wearily. "I don't know what to do... Besides, I don't wanna leave you, and best case scenario I move in with Tony," she sighed, head plonking in his lap. Steve sat there for a minute, patting her hair.

"Well, it might be time I try to strike out on my own. I mean, it's not like I don't like having you around, because I probably would have been doing badly without you, but.. y'know, maybe I should try to see if I can handle myself," he said carefully.

"Steve, I know what you mean, stop walking on eggshells," she snorted, head popping up. "I know you should. But I told you already, I'm selfish. I don't wanna leave you because I know you and care about you and like living with you because you're _safe_. Not that Fenrir can't protect me, because he has, but there's nothing like having a super-soldier that you _know_ to live with," she said, then pulled a disgruntled face. "Besides, worse case scenario I'll be disowned anyway," she sulked, though the thought really did hurt her. She wanted Tony to love her like a sister, not shun her. Yes, maybe she was selfish because _Jarvis_ , but still. It's not like she hated Tony either.

"I'm sure you'll be fine. Who wouldn't like you anyway?" Steve comforted.

"Several people I can name," Willow laughed, then smiled at him slightly, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Thanks, Steve. I'll handle it somehow, like I have so far," she sighed, rolling over and standing up. "How they let me become an Agent I don't know, I'm probably the worst one ever," she grumbled.

"Nah, I fill that position," Steve joked.

"No, you don't," Willow replied, shaking a finger at him. "You're a competent fighter and don't think I don't know that half of the stupid ideas the Commandos pulled in the war were _your_ ideas that Bucky couldn't talk you out of. He did look in street alleys for a _reason_ ," she jeered good-naturedly, and Steve flushed, scratching the back of his neck.

"It was just practical tactics put together in a slightly haphazard way..." he said sheepishly.

"Noooo, it was you saying _yes_ , Bucky saying _NO_ , and then Bucky swearing up and down before reluctantly saying _yes_ while you sat there grinning like a loon," she corrected, while Steve groaned.

"I wasn't _that_ bad!" he protested, while Fenrir looked on in clear amusement.

"Ohhhh, were you?" Willow was having a little too much fun, she knew, but she was ashamed not one whit. "Because as far as I remember your name is Steve 'I won't admit that I'm doing this' Rogers," she deadpanned, and Fenrir barked with laughter while Steve poured himself a glass of juice.

"Why am I getting roasted by an eighteen year old?" he asked nobody in particular while Willow sauntered into her room casually.

"Because this eighteen year old has the solemn right as your sassy little mascot!" she called back, earning another series of amused barks from Fenrir.

"Fenrir, is there any chance you'd take my side?" Steve queried while Willow picked up her necessary SHIELD badge and other identification stuffs, along with a few personal items to stick in her pockets.

"I am neutral," Fenrir replied casually.

"You coming with, Fen?" Willow asked, coming back out of the room in a pair of sweatpants and her Iron-Man hoodie. Fenrir just stood and made his way to the door just as there was the muffled sound of a car outside. "See you later, Steve." Willow grinned at him, and Steve pulled her into a hug.

"Sure thing, Willow. I'll be waiting," he said with a smile. "Oh, anything you want for dinner?" he asked.

"I don't know, maybe you'll have to eat without me. Sorry. I'll give you a call to let you know, though," Willow said, holding up her iPhone. Steve nodded.

"Be safe!" he called after both of them.

Willow just grinned and waggled her fingers at him as they walked out the door. Outside, Phil was waiting for them in his car. Willow approached the open window.

"May the peasants enter the Lola?" she asked respectfully, and Phil smiled.

"I'm here for a reason," he replied, and they got in. Willow glanced at Fenrir as they smirked, remembering when Willow had given him the case of signed cards. There were visible hearts in his eyes, they had told Steve later. The cards now resided in a safe, apparently, only taken out when there were guests or when Phil was on a long mission. It amused them to no end.

The car pulled away from the complex and into traffic, and Willow looked out the window towards where Stark Tower dominated the skyline. "I'm only going to be there to get you access to Mister Stark, probably through Miss Potts. Then I'm out and it's your mission. Have a plan?" Phil's soft voice asked, and Willow glanced at him through the rearview mirror.

"Thanks, and no. I usually wing most of my missions, because I have no idea what I'm doing and probably shouldn't be trusted with this job but I don't have a choice," she replied dryly. Phil chuckled.

"Well, Fury seems to think you're his best asset as far as Stark," he commented.

"Well, he might regret that later," Willow said with a grin that did not promise good for Fury - or the World Council. Nope. No. Phil ignored it as he always did, and they drove the rest of the way to the Tower in silence.

Willow had to take a breath before getting out of the car, Fenrir sliding out after, and followed Phil through the building's large front glass doors. She noticed with interest the security system, and several elevators in the back. Apparently the first twenty floors were for business while the other eighty were for Tony's personal usage. One elevator in the very back was painted gold and red, which Willow rolled her eyes at even as she guessed that it was the only elevator leading to the other eighty floors.

They passed through security, Willow emptying out her pockets and relinquishing her pocket knife to the guard that stood nearby. He gave her and Fenrir an odd look, but didn't protest Fenrir's presence. "Safety on the streets." She shrugged, and he just nodded his head before letting her through to shove the stuff back in her pockets minus the knife.

Phil was already at the desk by then, asking the staff there to speak to Miss Potts. He showed his identification and was almost immediately patched through, the red-haired woman showing up on a holographic screen. Her face lit up, while Willow stayed out of view. "Phil!" she exclaimed. "What's up?"

Phil gave her the familiar little smile that Willow knew most of the SHIELD agents knew and adored about the highly-respected agent, who had become a hero in his own right. "Hello, Miss Potts. I've been told to drop off this person that Mister Stark would probably like to meet. Would it be alright?" he asked.

"Oh... is it alright if they can wait for an hour? He's on his way from a press conference," she replied, and Phil nodded.

"She's in no hurry," Phil said, and Pepper cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, and she has a pet. Is that alright?"

Pepper cracked a smile. "Not a problem, Phil. Let her up. You sure you can't stay?" she asked kindly.

"Thank you, but no. I've got other things that need attention," he said, and they exchanged goodbyes before hanging up.

"The last elevator, hundredth floor," the man at the desk said politely, and Phil nodded before turning to Willow.

"Good luck," he said, and Willow smiled weakly.

"Thanks, Phil," she said quietly. He just nodded at them both before heading out. Willow, hand on Fenrir's head, walked towards the last elevator, pressing the button. The door slid open, and Willow and Fenrir stepped inside as they slid shut again.

"Hello, what floor are you going to?" A familiar, smooth British voice asked, and Willow couldn't help the grin that stretched across her face.

"Hello, Jarvis. Top floor, please," she said politely. The elevator lurched and began to travel up.

 _I was not aware that you knew of me. May I know your name, Miss?_ the polite AI asked, though Willow thought she could detect a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"Name's Willow Freya, and this is Fenrir," she replied. "I've heard of you," she added.

 _A pleasure, Miss Freya. Miss Potts is waiting for you._ Jarvis replied, and the doors slid open to reveal the floor that Willow knew well from the first Avengers movie. Miss Potts was standing by the holographic computer, dressed casually. She looked up as they entered, and came forwards with a slightly surprised smile.

"Hello there, I'm Virginia Potts," she introduced herself, and Willow shook her hand with a smile.

"Hello Miss Potts, I'm Willow Freya and this is Fenrir," she replied in kind, nervous. After all, this was her brother's girlfriend. _Girlfriend_ girlfriend.

"Nice to meet you, Willow. Come on, sit down," Pepper offered, and they went to sit on the couch. Pepper took out a can of soda and offered it to her, which she took gratefully. "I have to admit, I wasn't expecting a girl." Pepper smiled to show that she meant no offense, while Fenrir curled at Willow's feet. "What brings you to meet To- Mister Stark?" she corrected herself.

Willow looked down at her feet, taking a sip of the ginger ale. "I..." Willow sighed, running a hand through her hair. "It's actually a really long story. I don't mind telling you, but I'd rather wait till Mister Stark gets here to save myself breath," she laughed lightly, and Pepper smiled.

"Fair enough. So, what do you do?" she attempted to strike up conversation, and Willow felt like she was appreciating the woman more and more.

"Well, I'm actually SHIELD's youngest agent," she admitted sheepishly. "Phil is my handler, so that's why he brought me. I'm supposed to... give some news to Mister Stark about a few things, but I haven't had a chance for the last month because I was busy with another mission," she said, taking another sip while Fenrir's ears twitched.

"I'm guessing that back story is what needs to wait?" Pepper asked wryly, and Willow laughed.

"Yes, actually. Sorry about that." She grinned.

"Why do I get the feeling that you were sent because Tony wouldn't hurt a kid?" Pepper raised an eyebrow, earning more laughter.

"Well there are more reasons then that, though I'm sure that's probably one of them," she finally managed. "Oh, and can I say that I'm glad you're the CEO of Stark Industries?" She smiled genuinely at Pepper, who nodded.

"Thank you," she replied simply. "Oh," she said in surprise a moment later. "I think he's back earlier than expected."

They turned towards the window, where a helicopter was making a landing on the pad out on the balcony. Willow stood while Pepper went to greet Tony and tell him a few things. Willow took the opportunity to look at her brother for the first time. He was just like the movies portrayed him, with the same hair, same beard, and same brown eyes. In fact, Willow realized uncomfortably, she looked a lot like him, more than she'd originally thought. Their hair and eyes were the same shade, and they had similar facial contours. Though, of course, she was rather small at five feet six compared to most of the people she associated with. She'd been a midget in Asgard.

Tony and Pepper came in, and Willow met his eyes as he walked towards her. She saw many things in his eyes, some of which she didn't really want to name but felt in herself as well. Then he was smiling, and shaking her hand.

"Hi! You know who I am. Who's this fella, and yourself?" he asked with his famous charisma, which didn't phase Willow in the least thanks to Howard's similar vibe.

"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Willow Freya, and this is Fenrir," she replied, and Tony sat on the couch as she followed.

"Nice! How'd you get clearance to own a wolf?" he asked curiously, looking at Fenrir who growled, annoyed.

"Ah- he's not my _pet_ ," she said hastily. "More of a companion. And my job gave me clearance," she said.

"Oh right, Pepper said you were working for SHIELD," he said casually, pouring himself some alcohol by the smell of it. "Did that Fury guy send you?"

"Yes, but I'm not exactly interested in what he wants," she replied dryly. "I'm here more on a personal front than anything, no matter what my original orders were," she said nonchalantly, taking another sip.

"I like your attitude," Tony smirked at her as Pepper sat down as well. "So, official business first, yadda yadda," he said, waving his hand.

"Official blather was to remind you of the Avengers Initiative. That's it. Unofficially-" which was only half true but she'd explain later - "I'm here because I have a story you should hear," she said, leaning forwards and placing her can on the table.

"Well go tell Fury he can-"

"File it under 'being considered,' and please by all means tell your story. I'm interested," Pepper said smoothly, pouring herself a glass. Willow glanced down at Fenrir, totally unsure how to begin.

"Well..." She rubbed a hand over her face. Well hang it all, she was gonna do this the way the Starks did it. "Does November 1943 mean anything to you?" she asked, and saw Tony's hand clench slightly. Was it anger? Or something else?

"It might," he replied, voice a little hard. Pepper glanced at him unsurely.

"Did your father happen to give you a scrapbook with a story behind it?" she went on.

"I'm not seeing what you have to do with my private business, kid," he said bluntly.

"Actually, it's definitely my business because I wrote it." She dropped the bomb, expecting incredulous denial. She got it.

"Yeah right," Tony snorted bitterly, than stood. "I'm not taking any of this."

"Jarvis, open file Willow Stark, password Golden Retriever." She took a flying guess, crossing her fingers hard.

 _File accessed, miss._ Jarvis said, sounding a little surprised. Tony froze, while Pepper's face was pale.

"Open to the first letter from the scrapbook, and please read the second sentence," Willow said quietly.

 _But you will, one day, I promise._ Jarvis read.

"Second paragraph, middle line," she said again.

 _You may be wondering how I already know your name, if I wrote this when you weren't born yet, but don't worry, I'm not a witch or something. Like I said, you'll find out in time._

There was a silence in the Tower.

"Tony, my birth name is Willow Stark, and I died on November, 1943. Dad said not a word at my funeral, and Captain America cried. I wrote you those letters and that scrapbook in my own handwriting before my eyes failed and I couldn't hold a pen anymore. I told you that Dad might not talk about me, and I wrote about the Howling Commandos because I was their mascot," Willow said quietly, looking down at her hands.

After an agonizing moment, Tony came back and sat down, taking a long gulp of his drink. "How?" he finally asked, and Pepper covered her mouth with shimmering eyes.

"I was the first mutant of that Age. My body couldn't handle the changes, so it failed, but I wasn't _gone_. I was sent away, instead," she explained, and then proceeded to tell her story from start to finish. It was a long story, and there was a long silence afterwards. Pepper was silently crying, while Tony looked at her face.

"You even look like me," he finally said distantly. "I remember you from the pictures. Your smile is the same..." Then he looked at her. "I read your letters until I memorized them. Why didn't he ever want to talk about you?" he asked, eyes shadowed.

Willow felt tears rise to her eyes. "He... he lost my mother because of me, and then he lost me because of the cancer. He wanted to make something to cure me, but didn't have the time because of the war before I died," she replied thickly. "He doesn't like showing emotion or feelings, never really did."

Tony held out his hand, and she readily placed hers in it, guessing what he wanted. With a swift movement, he had gathered a sample of her blood. "Jarvis, analyze it," he said, and Willow calmly retracted her hand. There was a few seconds.

"DNA match, biological half-sister," Jarvis announced, and Pepper let out a quiet cry.

"Oh Tony..." she gasped.

Willow looked down. "I just thought you had the right to know," she said tremulously. "I don't expect anything from you, and you don't have to see me, but-"

"When can you move in?" Tony interrupted her, his face expectant. Willow blinked.

"Wha-?" She honestly hadn't been expecting that. Maybe dinner, yeah, but move in? Already?

"I want to get to know you. You're the only family I have, now." He shrugged. "Plus, you've kinda been a part of my life because of that scrapbook. So, when you movin' in? And if Fury has a problem with that, he can go - sit on a tack," he fixed himself after a glance at her and Pepper.

Willow smiled wearily. "Yeah... I need to ask you a lot of stuff about that scrapbook," she admitted with a sigh. "I'd be happy to move in whenever it's convenient, if that's what you want," she answered his question, scuffing her toe against the floor.

"I have a lot of questions to ask you about that scrapbook too," Tony said dryly. "Would tonight be too soon?" he asked, sounding much like a child. "Jarvis, can she move in tonight?" he addressed the AI plaintively.

 _Miss Stark's belongings may be moved into the floor below yours at the soonest convenience, Sir_. Jarvis replied promptly, and Willow gave the ceiling a suspicious glance.

"Jarvis... Why do I get the feeling that you _want_ me here? Don't think I didn't realize you called me Miss _Stark_ ," she said, squinting her eyes.

 _I am an AI, Miss Stark, and the Starks are my creators._ He avoided her question neatly. Tony was smirking.

"He totally became a sneaky little chit, Tony, what have you been doing to make him fuss over you?" Willow rounded on him severely. Pepper looked like she was trying not to laugh.

"What? Me? I have no idea what you mean," he scoffed back.

"I'm your older sister!" she whined.

"No, no, _I'm_ the older brother here because you're eighteen." He pointed a finger at her.

"Oh fine," she sulked. "And I'll move in tomorrow, because I'd like to tell me roommate bye and see you later. In fact, I'm supposed to text him..." She whipped out her phone and began typing furiously.

"Wait, _him_?" Tony sounded very unhappy.

"Relax, Toto, I'll tell you who he is later and you'll realize that there never has been and never will be anything between us," she said calmly, sending the text and pocketing it.

Tony squinted at her. "First of all, I'm not _Toto_ , and second, you're staying for dinner. Invite this person of yours," he demanded. "Pepper, can we order? Pizza?" he begged.

Pepper stood and came to hug Willow, who gladly accepted. "Well I for one am happy that you're here, Willow. Tony told me about you a little, but not much. I'll be glad to get to know you," she said warmly.

Willow looked her in the eye. "I can think of no other person I'd rather have looking after my idiot of a genius brother," she replied solemnly, bowing in the Aesir fashion. Pepper laughed and went to the phone while Tony glared at her.

"Oh so I'm an idiot, am I?" he asked pettishly.

Willow gave him a long look. "I wasn't exactly happy about what you did a month ago, but you've gotten yourself together, thank goodness," she replied simply. Tony fell quiet, and he frowned.

"How much do you know?" he asked quietly, glancing at Pepper.

"You mean how you became Iron Man and how you just _happened_ to have a blood sampler in your pocket?" she said calmly, pulling out her phone again as it buzzed.

"Oh," was all Tony said, but it was uncomfortable and quiet.

"We'll talk later. Lemme call him," she said more cheerfully, then held the phone to her ear. Few moments later, Steve picked up.

"Hi Willow," he sounded slightly breathless. "Screen didn't like me for a minute."

Willow gave the phone a strange look. "So you're breathless?" she asked.

"Don't judge, I just came back from running," he retorted.

"Oh, nice. Anyway, apparently I'm expected to stay for dinner, but you're expected to come too," she said, glancing at Tony who was staring at her phone with a concerning amount of interest and horror.

"Oh. You sure it's alright?" Steve asked, and Willow laughed a little.

"Hey, I've got to prove that we have a strictly platonic relationship, plus I'm moving in tomorrow. You gotta come," she wheedled.

"Alright, alright, be there in ten minutes," he promised.

"Stark Tower, just tell them you're the guest for the Starks and show your ID. Red and gold elevator in the back," she said.

"Okay."

They hung up, and Willow glanced up. "Please, Jarvis?" she asked sweetly.

 _Of course, Miss Stark._

"You need a Stark Phone," Tony declared, walking up to her and snatching her phone away as Pepper came up.

"Hey!" Willow protested.

Tony held the phone out of her reach. "Nope, new Stark Phone," he insisted stubbornly. "Jarvis, how many do we have left?"

 _Five, Sir._ Was the answer.

"I ordered five boxes, all sorts," Pepper said.

"Thanks Pep. Jarv, I need a Stark Phone, and your matrix downloaded on it," he called.

 _Of course, sir._ Jarvis replied calmly.

"But my phone," Willow whined, trying to reach for it.

"Oh fine, you can keep it, but you'd better carry the Stark Phone around too," Tony tossed it to her.

"Thank you, I'll try," she said in a slightly annoyed tone, then perked up as there was a slight dinging sound.

 _Miss Stark, your guest has arrived._ Jarvis informed her.

"Oh listen, it's _my_ guest now." Willow grinned. "Does that make it _my_ Tower?" she asked sweetly.

"In your dreams," Tony scoffed.

The elevator door opened just then, and Willow threw herself at Steve, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Steeeeeve!" Okay so yeah, maybe she wanted to see how protective Tony _might_ be of her.

Startled, Steve's arm slipped around her. "Willow? Are you okay?" he asked.

Willow turned her head towards Tony. "Tony, this is Steve Rogers, AKA big Golden Retriever, and Steve this is my brother Toto," she said calmly, then buried herself back in Steve's chest.

"H-Hello Mister Stark, Miss..." Steve nodded to Pepper and Tony. "Willow..." He glanced down at her, still clinging to him.

"Wait, Big Golden Retriever? Steve Rogers?" Tony's voice was intrigued.

"They found me and unfroze me. I'm an Agent of SHIELD now," was Steve's resigned answer. "I've heard a lot about you."

"So have I," if Tony's tone was slightly bitter, nobody said anything. "Nice to meet you, name's Tony Stark, this is Pepper Potts, and that's my sister you're holding," he said blandly, and Willow took a moment to unlatch herself.

"He's my brother too," she said, then flitted over to Pepper. "Can I call you Pep?" she asked.

Pepper smiled. "Of course, Willow. Let's let the boys play while you and I go get drinks, hmm?" Pepper replied, and Willow happily followed. The two sized each other up for a moment.

"So rumor has it my sister was your mascot." Tony finally extended a topic, beckoning Steve over to the couch and pouring him a glass. Steve took it hesitantly.

"Thank you. Yes, she was. We called her the 'Little Sentinel,'" he added with a faint smile.

"Huh. Where'd that come from?" Tony asked, leaning forwards curiously.

Steve took a sip of the drink. "There was a lot of diversity in the Howling Commandos, and she was the youngest and the only female. We called her that because she suffered more pain than we probably did, but still smiled and barked at us." He looked down into his cup, eyes glazing slightly. "Howard would call her by the most ridiculous names..."

"Well that makes more sense." Tony shrugged. "Anyway, so where'd they find you?"

"Out in the Ice Fields of the Arctic," Steve replied quietly, uncomfortably shifting.

Tony might be insensitive and blunt, but he wasn't that rude, especially when it came to trauma and PTSD. "So how much you know about her?" he prodded slightly.

"Basically everything. I know there's stuff she doesn't tell me, but I know why she's a high-ranking Agent," Steve said carefully.

"Then we're on the same base I guess," Tony sounded like he didn't quite know what to make of that. "Anyway, so tell me what you remember about her." He leaned back in his chair, just as Pepper and Willow came back with the soft drinks.

Steve glanced at Willow briefly. "Well there was the one time that she lost her voice yelling because one of the Commandos called her 'honeybunches,'" he said with a faint smile, and Willow dropped the last can on the table with a horrified look.

"Don't give him ideas, you-!" Willow plopped on the couch beside him, where Fenrir was still curled up. Willow would have wondered at his catatonic state if it wasn't for the fact that they weren't really functioning all that well since... _That._

"Wait, _honeybunches_?" Tony was grinning. "What other old-fashioned nicknames have you been called, _sweetheart_?" he asked wickedly, while Pepper rolled her eyes.

"That's one of them. Last time a guy called me that, I made a dent in his privates," she deadpanned, taking a sip of coke.

Tony's eyebrows shot up. "Give us the real story, Capsicle," he demanded, turning to Steve.

"It's true." Steve had to admit, and Willow gave a toothy grin.

"Who was it?" Pepper sounded interested, glass in hand as she glanced between them.

Steve and Willow glanced at each other. "Falsworth," Steve said, and Willow burst into muffled laughter.

"That man... He'd flirt with a _tree_ , for the Norn's sake," she cackled.

"He tried, once," Steve said with a straight face.

"Sounds familiar," Pepper said mildly, and Willow started rolling.

Tony looked offended. "I didn't flirt with a _tree_ , Pep. Gimme some credit," he said in an injured tone.

"Oh, that tall, green-topped spindly thing wasn't a tree?" Pepper asked innocently, and Willow fairly howled. Tony gaped, and Steve chuckled slightly.

"I don't deserve this," he declared, ruffled.

"That's what Steve's face said first time I teased him," Willow gasped, then went into a crying fit of laughter as Steve glared at her.

"Willow..."

"Spill," Tony demanded, leaning forwards.

"We went out to a café, and I got Steve a coffee," Willow managed through her laughter. "So I gave it to him and said 'one hot Americano for the iced Americano'." She was shaking so hard that Fenrir pawed her ankle in protest. Pepper had a hand over her mouth while Tony roared.

"You're definitely my sister," he cackled, just as the desk called for the pizza confirmation. Pepper went to get it while Willow and Tony high-fived. Steve just sighed.

"I should tell Coulson that one." Willow poked Steve, who gave her the eyebrows of disappointment. "Noooo, anything but that, Steve!" she whined. "Not the eyebrows of disappointment!"

Tony went into another fit while Steve gently cuffed her shoulder. "Thanks, Stripes," he grumbled.

"Nah, you're the Star-Spangled Man with stripes, not me," she replied blissfully as the pizza arrived. Steve decided to ignore her.

They all tucked into the pizza eagerly, though Willow and Fenrir didn't eat much, to Steve's obvious concern as he gently prodded them to have more. Tony and Pepper exchanged glances but said nothing, not aware of their grief. The rest of the meal was spent in happy conversation as they got to know each other better. They mostly stuck to light topics, like army shenanigans and lab failures, with a bit of information slipped in here and there about themselves. By the time Willow and Steve left, they had an appointment for the next day in the afternoon when Steve would help Willow move into Stark Tower. Tony had offered Steve a place, but he'd refused politely and explained his plan to strike out on his own.

Tony had shrugged and then declared that Willow's floor would have a room for him whenever he wanted, which Steve had expressed thanks for before leaving. They walked back to their complex, a twenty minute walk with Fenrir quieter than usual.

"So, you think you'll be happy?" Steve asked softly after a few minutes.

"I don't know," Willow replied cynically. "I like Tony - he _is_ my brother - but there's a lot of things between us and a lot of ways that our relationship could go sour. I won't give up hope, but we don't really know each other yet," she sighed, sticking her hands in her hoodie pocket as she frowned under the hood.

Steve was quiet for another minute. "Well, I don't know all the details, but I think he really wants to know you," he offered, and Willow snorted softly.

"Thanks, Steve," she said quietly but sincerely.

"Anyway, if things go south you'll have a place to come back to," Steve tried to cheer her up, making her laugh.

"True. I'll leave a couple pairs of clothes behind just in case," she chuckled, and Fenrir bumped against her legs. Apparently they'd be having a talk later.

"Won't you be public now?" Steve asked suddenly, and Willow deflated.

"I hope not. I mean, it's inevitable that I'll be known sooner or later, but I hate crowds and being in front of people, so I hope I won't have to go to any big press shindigs or something," she said, disgruntled. "Although, you will at some point too," she pointed out dryly giving him a sly sideways glance.

"Let's not go there," Steve said hastily in a small voice that made Willow grin.

"Acknowledged," she snickered.

When they finally arrived back at their apartment, they just gave each other quiet good-nights before retiring to their own rooms. Willow took a shower and climbed into bed where Fenrir was waiting for her.

"So?" she whispered, curling into him. He wrapped an arm around her casually.

"Tony smells of... many things," he said after a moment. "Pain, bitterness. But he is curious about you. I think you may already hold a small place in his life from your letters," he rumbled, and Willow nodded thoughtfully.

"If he cared enough about the letters to memorize them and keep them, then maybe he kinda formed his own image of me, I guess," she theorized. "He's probably trying to reconcile me with that, now."

"I suppose," he replied, then buried his nose into her hair. "You are not eating well again," he noted.

"Neither are you," she retorted.

"I can go without eating if I must for longer than you," he grumbled.

"Shush," was all she said, but he quieted. "Sleep."

"After you."

She just gave him an exasperated look that he ignored.

* * *

"What's wrong with her?" Tony asked Steve as he and Willow walked into the eighty-eighth floor of Stark Tower, which was to be Willow's floor.

Steve suddenly turned red, just as Fenrir morphed into humanoid form and started cackling. Pepper's eyebrows shot up.

"Whoa." She looked at him, blinking.

"She woke up this morning screaming," Fenrir cackled, grabbing the box from the sulking Willow.

"Screaming?" Tony frowned.

"Is this necessary?" Steve practically squeaked, blushing wildly as he sat the box on the couch. Fenrir started laughing harder, while Willow glared at him.

"Shut up, Fenrir," she snarled, then sighed. "I woke up screaming because I had a dream where I was comparing my brother Tony to my adopted brothers, including Steve, and then I had this _thought_ and woke up screaming. Then Steve ran in my room thinking I was getting murdered-"

"And she just looked at him with this horrified face and whispered 'I made you more handsome than my brother,'" and Fenrir completely lost it.

"Look, I liked Steve _before_ he went into the microwave and came out all huge and tall and strong," Willow huffed, crossing her arms. "I was so ready to adopt this tiny little adorable Steve who didn't know how to talk to a girl and was shorter than poor old sickly me," she waved her hands in the shape of a small person, "then I had to go and help make this machine _with my Dad_ that made him all _this_ -" she motioned to a groaning Steve- "and then _now_ compare them," she hissed, motioning from Steve to Tony and back again. Pepper was laughing herself silly with Fenrir while Willow steamed and Steve and Tony looked at each other.

"I don't know if I should be offended or laugh," Tony finally said, and Steve sighed.

"I don't either..." he said, then stuck out his hand to Tony. "That's it, I guess. I'll try to visit Willow once in a while if you don't mind."

Tony took his hand and shook it briefly. "Her floor, her guests." He shrugged. "See ya 'round, Spangles," he said causally, and Steve hugged Willow before leaving. Then Tony rounded on her. "What does he mean, _that's it_ ," he demanded, pointing at the two large boxes.

"Well that's all the clothes I have right now - I've been too busy to go out shopping for more clothes - plus my work stuff and uniform and little knick-knacks," she answered, looking around the flat. It was huge, with a living room, a tv that took up a whole wall, a kitchen and dining room, two bathrooms, and three bedrooms.

"That's unspeakable," Tony said in clear horror. "I'm getting you a credit card to buy stuff you want to fill up this place," he announced. "Pepper, we can do that right?"

"As long as Willow has official papers," she replied, fixing a vase.

"Why?" Willow suddenly asked, while Fenrir went to go check on the bedrooms.

"Why what?" Tony replied, handing her a Stark Phone. She glanced down at it absently and stuck it in her pocket.

"I mean, you barely really know me, and sooner or later the press is gonna know. Are you... are you okay with me being known as your sister?" she asked. Tony blinked at her.

"I'm Iron Man, excuse you. I do as I please, especially when it comes to my family. Plus, you're cool and I think you're underestimating my abilities to read people," he declared.

Willow gave him an odd look, then turned to the room briefly. "Are you going down to the lab? Can I join you?" she asked.

Tony hesitated a moment before shrugging. "Why not. You any good?" he asked, and Pepper went to do some work as Willow followed Tony. Fenrir opted to stay behind to unpack her stuff and take a nap.

"Well, it's not my forte. I'm horrific at math, but I'm great at grasping concepts," Willow admitted as they took the elevator down. "I can expand on an idea, but not actually put it to the works."

"Lab, Jarvis," Tony said absently. "Oh." He turned back to her, hands in his pockets. She looked up at him.

"You didn't sleep last night, did you," she asked. He didn't answer, and she turned back to the door. "I bet you didn't know that I almost had a heart attack when I found out I was related to you. I didn't even think about Howard much, but when I realized that you were coming along... I kinda freaked." She felt her face heat up. It felt awkward to admit it, but she wanted to sort of make a transition to where she wanted to go.

"Well I knew I was popular but I didn't think I was destined by the stars." Tony smirked as the door opened and they walked out into the floor where the lab was. Willow snorted.

"Considering that I was the only one who knew, let's not get ahead of ourselves. I'm technically older, after all," she sniffed.

"Yeah but you're only eighteen," Tony argued, going over to a table where tools lay.

"Well considering coma years and everything, I'm actually sixteen twice plus two years to make the eighteen, and also having lived in Asgard for who-knows-how-long because time there seems a little off to me," she retorted, picking up a diagram on the table.

"Nah, I'm still older." Tony waved it off and bent over a box. "Oh yeah, by the way, here." He handed her something. She turned and took it, suddenly smiling as she recognized it as her worn scrapbook. "Kept the pictures somewhere else and put a transcript on Jarvis, but it somehow didn't get chunked yet," he said, though Willow felt suspicious about that. Tony was actually a sentimental person when he wanted to be. He just hated admitting it. She decided not to say anything.

"Bet it feels weird, meeting me after already having a picture in your head of what I should be," she remarked, flipping carefully through the yellowed pages. In some places, the handwriting was nearly impossible to read.

"Well I've learned to accept the impossible by now," he pointed out. "There's weird stuff goin' on now. This Hulk guy, and now aliens from another planet, then Captain America, and mutants, and now you're kind of... another novelty that's basically on par with the other ones. World's gettin' weirder every day," he opined, just as three robots rolled up.

"Dum-E! YOU! And Butterfingers, right?" Willow exclaimed, and both robots perked up as they rolled around her.

"Yeah you two, this is Willow Stark, my _little_ sister. Don't listen to her when she says she's older," Tony told them while trying to screw in a bolt on a metal piece. Willow patted the chirping robots.

"They're adorable." She grinned. "And I _am_ older, ask Jarvis," she added.

"Jarvis, tell them she's not," Tony called.

"I will take no sides, sir," Jarvis informed them primly, and Willow grumbled.

"I'm supposed to be the favorite, Jarv!" she protested. "Tony's the annoying one!"

"It is against my protocols to call my creator names," Jarvis fairly sighed.

"See there? Loyal." Tony pointed a screwdriver at her.

"Doesn't mean he doesn't think it," Willow sniffed, then carefully set the scrapbook down. "I feel like I'm handling something that belongs in a museum," she said with an odd look. " _I_ belong in a museum," she grumbled.

Tony laughed at her. "You and Capsicle are so old," he teased.

"Oh shut it, big brother," she grumbled, flopping down on a stool.

"Ha! _Now_ you call me older," Tony accused, and she sulked.

"Can I see the suits?" she asked, perking up.

"Why not," Tony said blithely, then walked over to a wall. Willow followed after, curious.

"Sure you trust me not to leak to SHIELD?" she teased as the wall slid open. Tony raised an eyebrow at her.

"It's _my_ suit. As in, you couldn't do the math for it." He waved it off as the suit lit up. Willow tilted her head at it, knowing he was right. She just looked at the suit, running her hands over it slowly.

"You know what, show me what you can do." Tony suddenly turned to her, and Willow froze with her hand on the hand of the suit. Said suit turned its head to her, and she looked into its blue eye holes, knowing that it was Jarvis looking at her.

"No, thanks," she said quietly.

"C'mon, you know what I can do," Tony urged, and she turned to him with her face blank.

"No."

"You couldn't wreck this place if you wanted to-"

"If I wanted to, I could have killed you by now before you could so much as point at the suit," she corrected coldly, then just plopped down on the floor. "I'm sorry, Tony," she blurted, then placed her head in her hands. "I just can't right now. Using my skills just... brings up stuff I don't want to touch yet."

There was a minute of silence, then Tony sat on the floor next to her, dropping something in her lap. She looked down at it. "Talk," he said simply, and Willow opened the book to see that it was an album.

"You don't like talking about him," she said quietly.

"Do you?" he asked, fiddling with another part in his hands while Dum-E, YOU, and Butterfingers cleared up the room a little.

She hesitated. "He was my Dad," she finally admitted. "I mean, I kinda knew him, but I didn't really know him like a real _dad_. He was just... a historical figure to my mind. I knew I should care more, but I couldn't. He wasn't _real_ , and I didn't live long enough for it to be. But I cared," she suddenly said. "It's not like he treated me badly. He was a good enough Dad as far as money and care could go, but he never really liked referring to my sickness. He wasn't good at emotion either," she said, knowing that talking would help both her and Tony. It felt detached to her to talk about Howard. She didn't _know_ him like Tony did.

"Sounds about right," Tony mumbled. Willow chose not to comment.

"I guess I kinda did you wrong, huh?" she said wearily, tracing a finger over a picture of Howard next to the Italian-looking woman that she guessed was her step-mother, Maria.

"What? You weren't even around," Tony sounded confused as he glanced at her.

"I meant that I sort of took out my frustration on that scrapbook," she elaborated, turning the page of the album to see a little Tony beside a smiling Howard and Maria. "I might not have... presented Howard in the best of ways. I didn't mean to. He wasn't a horrific parent. He didn't verbally, emotionally, or physically _abuse_ me, just... kind of ignored what I was feeling at his own convenience," she said thoughtfully, working it out for herself as much as explaining to Tony. "He could've been better, but he could've been worse, too."

Tony glanced over at the picture she was tracing, of him standing alone by a tree. Next to it was the old picture of her and Steve and Bucky, making her heart clench. "I guess," he admitted. "He was always trying to find Steve, and when he wasn't doing that he was always doing something else," then he paused thoughtfully. "I think it had to do with you. He hated mentioning you: in fact, the only way I ever found that scrapbook was because I was looking at some old stuff in the attic and found a withered branch of a Weeping Willow. I asked Dad about it and he just told me to look for an old blue scrapbook. Then he just refused to talk about you after that," he said, tossing the piece in his hand on the table and making Butterfingers hand him another to straighten out. "One time I walked in on him trying to record something, and he had briefly mentioned something about you. But I got kicked out." He shrugged one shoulder.

"Oh," was all Willow could say, closing the album. "What was she like?" she suddenly asked.

"Who, Mom? She was better than Dad. I mean, she actually cared about me more than Dad it seemed, but she was always busy being his arm candy." He curled his lip. "But she was nice."

"So you didn't really know her either," Willow deduced, setting aside the album.

"Oh yeah, you said yours died too, huh?" Tony said, getting grease all over his fingers.

"When I was born. Apparently she didn't make the birth." Willow shrugged. She didn't know the woman. Wish she did, but she didn't. "Dad kinda was extra careful about me for that reason."

"Anyway - you know how they left, right?" Tony asked.

Willow blinked slightly. "Well the car..."

"Yeah, just wondering if you knew." He stood and began to put the pieces together on the table. Willow watched him silently for a moment.

"What was your image of me?" she asked curiously, propping her face in her hands.

Tony rubbed his nose, leaving a black streak as he looked at her, beard scruffy. Willow hid a grin at the grease mark. "It's hard to put into words. It was just an impression, really. I kinda thought you were prissy for a while, the way you talked about people, but that changed later when I got older and realized that you had some serious sass in those letters." He smirked as she snickered. "That was enough to convince me you were a true Stark. Then I started really reading your letters because of a psychology class I took in high-school, and added some other stuff to my mental image. I didn't really have a physical look on ya, though, besides the pictures," he grunted, twisting the pieces together. Then he held it up, while she stood and took it from his hands. It was a metal glove, about her size. She put it on, ignoring the grease, and flexed it.

"Paint it," Tony advised, then grabbed a few cans of spray paint and handed them to her. She took them and bent over the table, while he started something else. "I kinda had this idea that you were sassy but didn't come off that way to people who first met you. Then I decided that you were probably... Jeez kid, I don't know. I kinda thought you'd be like me I guess," he said, face scrunching.

"Oh. Okay," she brushed it off. "But anyway, I suppose I was trying to ask how you thought of me," she said, gently spraying paint on the glove.

Tony paused and looked at her. "I don't know. I didn't know you then. I did kinda use you in my mind as an imaginary friend or something. Y'know, like I'd wonder sometimes what you'd say to things, use you as a sounding board," he mused slightly, then set the thing in his hands down. "What, you nervous I hate you or something?"

Willow didn't answer for a few minutes, still spraying the glove with a dark green. Then she put it down, rubbing her face on her sleeve so that she wouldn't smear her face with her wet hands. "Maybe," she admitted with a sigh, glancing up at him. "Maybe I did. Or instead -" she picked up a can to read the label, "maybe I just wished that one day, when I finally met you, that you would have somehow liked me. Expected me." She picked up a different can, then went back to spraying the glove. "It's stupid," she admitted. "But you're my brother after all."

Tony came over to look at her progress. "Well, I think we're doing okay so far," he said, glancing at her. "We're workin' together, right?"

Willow suddenly stopped, setting the can down. "Yeah," she replied, looking down at the glove.

"You don't strike me as a green kind of person. Gold, maybe. Why green?" Tony asked curiously, studying it.

Willow clenched the glove, fighting the tears the sprang to her eyes. "A memory." She didn't care that her voice cracked. "Just a memory." She shook her head, blinking the tears away and setting the glove down to dry. Then she turned to Tony with a wry smile, holding up a piece of cloth. She reached up, swiping his nose. "Grease, Tony. Were you always this messy?" she asked with a smirk. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"You know the answer to that?" he challenged.

Willow didn't take the bait. "Nah. I just know the major parts of your life," she replied. "Specifically recent stuff." Then she slipped the glove on again, the acrylic paint hard and dry.

"You did a good paint job on that one. I'll make another for you to paint, then you can use them to train with," he said enthusiastically, going to get more materials. Despite not being much of a mechanic or art student, Willow found herself relaxing at the mundane feeling that this time with Tony gave her. For once, she didn't feel as pressured for time as she had been for the past several months. That didn't mean that she wasn't, but it was less of a nerve-wracking weight on her mind.

"I never said I would train," she pointed out wryly.

"Oh please, you're a Stark. That's enough for me to know that you won't be the type to just sit around and not experiment with your skills," he scoffed back, bringing back quite a few tools and a heap of metal.

Willow didn't dispute, just smiling. "Maybe you know me better than you think," she conceded, dragging over a chair and sitting on it. Tony gave her a glance, but didn't say anything. "Jarvis, can you please tell Pepper that we're in the lab and no, we're not blowing anything up? In case she needs us," Willow asked.

 _Of course, Miss Stark. I will notify her right away,_ the British accent said soothingly.

"By the way, I thought you should know that I'm just here for Jarvis," Willow said to Tony causally, sending him a mischievous smirk. Tony smirked back, and Willow realized that even their smirks were similar.

"We're Starks. I'm pretty sure I do know you better than you think I do," Tony replied just as tauntingly.

"Eh, forget about proving it to the public, the way we finish each other's sentences will be enough," Willow snorted, chipping paint off of her skin.

"Speaking of which, Jarvis, make sure no one catches wind of Willow before the press conference we're supposed to attend next month," Tony said. "That's when they get to know, not before."

Willow glanced at Tony curiously. He noticed. "Look kid, I know we haven't known each other long, but it's never gonna stay a secret anyway. Might as well control it. Besides, I think we've both noticed that we're more similar than we thought. Maybe you'll be able to keep up with me," Tony reasoned, and Willow nodded, admitting that he was right.

"True," she agreed. "But thanks anyway." She didn't need to explain why. Tony would understand her gratitude of his subtle acceptance of her into his life. Maybe he wasn't open to her yet, and never would be, but at least he welcomed her as his family member and by default gave her a place to call home and people to call family without being afraid of being shunned. It was a small step compared to the gap between them, but it was a crucial one and one that promised better in the future. If Tony knew that Willow was aware it portrayed his compassionate heart, he didn't say anything and Willow didn't either.

"By the way, do you have to go to work tomorrow?" Tony suddenly asked, and she nodded.

"Yeah," she replied. That morning she had told Fury about her move, which he ahead stoically accepted. After all, it meant a better link to Stark for SHIELD. Willow wasn't fool enough to think that Fury wouldn't keep careful tabs on her, though.

"How are you gonna get there?" he asked, still working on the other glove.

"Phil will probably pick me up. Since I'll be in a SHIELD uniform, I doubt anyone will suspect our personal relationship." She rightly guessed his motive for asking.

"Probably not. So what do you do anyway?" he asked.

Willow leaned back, watching him work while still fiddling with her glove. "I'm a field agent mainly," she replied. "Haven't seen serious action, though a few minor skirmishes here and there. I work with two other agents and occasionally get paired with Steve for a minor mission for information or something. Small operatives are my current focus." She didn't need to lie. Besides, he'd know everything soon enough anyway.

"What kind of action?" The frown in Tony's voice made her raise an eyebrow slightly.

"Skirmishes, bro, skirmishes. I'm safe, don't worry," she said dryly. "I have enough control over my skills to be more than capable in a little fight. I can handle three on my own so far. I plan to train more soon, but I've got some stuff to work out first," she said the last in a more guarded tone. Tony got the warning, though he didn't drop the topic.

"Well when you do, you've gotta tell me. I'm totally building a place where you can practice and stuff," he said decisively.

"You'll be the first to know," she granted with a smile.

"You have a code name?" He looked at her with that gleam in his eye that promised trouble.

"Well, I've been called Dreamer, Dream-Hopper, and DreamCatcher..." she replied warily.

"DreamCatcher. I like that one," he declared. "Definitely calling you Will though," he added, and Willow sighed resignedly.

"Don't suppose I can stop you," she muttered.

"Nope!"

"Jarvis, I am gonna have a _talk_ with you tonight. There's some security measures need creating with my access only," Willow decided.

"Oi! I created him!" Tony's head popped up.

"And I'm a Stark so I get to work with him. Besides, it's for your own good," she sniffed back. Tony retreated, grumbling under his breath.

"Brat."

"Oh, very," she snickered. "I did get adopted into royalty."

"I'll find your buttons one day, mark my words." He pointed at her, eyes narrowing.

"What, now you're threatening to use Mark VIII on me now?" she feigned offense.

Tony gave up.

 _Well done, Miss Stark._ Jarvis remarked snarkily.

"I'd high-five you if I could, Jarv," she cackled back. Tony expressed his extreme displeasure.


	14. Calibrate, Integrate, Launch

_Hello everyone! I know it's been two weeks, but college is... not being kind at the moment... Anyway, hope you all had a great week! Hope this will be a good way to start the next. :)_

 _Thank you as always for your support, and welcome, new followers! Thank you for joining me on this journey. Please excuse any typos or mistakes, they are all my fault. I try to edit them out but sometimes they manage to slip through the cracks._

 _ **AzureTheVampire:** thank you so much! I'm thrilled that you found my experiment exciting! I also love Fenrir, and I'm excited to share with you all the ways he will be involved in Willow's journey. Thank **you** for sticking with me. I will continue to try to live up to your expectations. As for Bucky and Loki... Don't worry, they'll eventually show up. ;) I've got to keep you coming back, don't I?_

 _ **Guest (Sophie A):** Wow, high praise, thank you! :) I highly doubt mine is the best; I've read some absolutely incredible OC fics on this website that I aspire to reach one day. I'm so glad that their reunion met your expectations! I try my best. Writing Tony is a bit tricky... I hope you'll stick with me through this journey! Willow appreciates your support._

 _To everyone else that has reviewed and favorited and followed: thank you. Sincerely. I appreciate it more than you'll ever know. I hope you'll continue to be patient with me as I spend time to give you quality chapters! Without further ado,_

 _Read!_

 _Enjoy!_

 _Review!_

* * *

 _Good morning, Miss Stark. It is currently seven in the morning, and the weather today is predicted to be sunny and with a high of eighty four._

Willow was woken up to Jarvis' voice, and yawned while rolling over. "G'way Jarv," she groaned, burying her face into her pillows.

 _Apologies, Miss Stark, but you have a very important day today_. Jarvis replied, and Willow could clearly hear the patience in his tone.

Jarvis, as she had always known, was not a real person (not until Vision anyway), but he thought and talked like one. He was also always careful to not sound that way around anyone other than Pepper, Tony, and Willow. His technology was the furthest advanced in the world, and it was important that no one _really_ know _just_ how self-aware Jarvis might be except for the three of them. Hence why, since the beginning, Willow had never referred to Jarvis as a _thing_ but rather a _person_.

 _Today is the day that Sir has a press conference that you are also supposed to attend._

For a moment, Willow processed that, then a moment later buried her face back into the pillows with a whimper. "Nooooooo Jarvis, I don't wanna," she whined, just as Fenrir opened her door and began poking her.

"Pepper is calling," he told her, just as the elevator outside the flat dinged and a bell rang.

 _As Master Fenrir has said, Miss Potts is calling._ Jarvis affirmed, and she dragged herself out of bed reluctantly. There were no missions from SHIELD that day, so Phil and Fury had given her the day to go to the press conference. Making herself known wasn't really a problem, since mutants were well known to the world and they had a good cover story for her anyway.

Padding to the door, Willow opened it to stare up at Pepper with a bleary look and rumpled hair. Pepper smiled in amusement. "Good morning, Willow," she said, and held up a bag. "I believe that outfit we ordered has arrived," she informed, and Willow let her in with a sigh. Over the past week, she had grown closer to Pepper, partly because of Tony but mainly just because they found some things in common. Pepper had helped her find an outfit for the big day, one that Willow could feel comfortable in and yet look the part of a Stark, though she hated dresses. Skirts she could manage better.

Today, though, she was going to be wearing a blue shirt and white skirt pants with a gold necklace set around a ruby pendant. Willow fixed her hair in a neat bun with wisps coming around her face, while Pepper squeezed her into the outfit.

"No," Willow said with horror when Pepper looked at her face, and Pepper rolled her eyes.

"Fine. Just use a little bit of gloss then," she wheedled, and Willow allowed that much. Fenrir would not be going, but rather watching from the floor's television.

 _Sir would like to know if you are ready, Miss Stark._ Jarvis spoke up, and Willow sighed as she grabbed a shoulder bag, sticking her wallet and two phones in it. One was her iPhone and the other was her Stark Phone. She used the iPhone for pictures and Internet while the Stark Phone was for calls (since it couldn't be traced) and to occasionally to talk to Jarvis when she was bored. She could also access other files from the tower using the Stark Phone and even do some hacking if she wanted. She probably would have sometime in the past week if she hadn't had level ten access.

"Tell him I'm coming down to his floor, please," she replied to Jarvis, then kissed Fenrir's cheek and hugged Pepper. "Wish you were going."

"Nah, you don't need me." Pepper smiled, hugging back.

"I have social anxiety, yes I need someone," Willow whimpered back, and Pepper sighed.

"I'm sorry, Willow, but cheer up. Tony doesn't like press conferences very much either," she comforted, and Willow nodded before heading down. Fenrir had already sat at the couch and had flicked to the channel where the conference would be aired. Willow, as she headed down one floor with Pepper, had no doubt that Fury and Coulson would be watching. As would Steve, Clint and maybe Natasha, in all likelihood.

Tony met them at the elevator, striding in with a white shirt, blue dress coat, and black pants, matching Willow. "You ready?" he asked Willow casually, wrapping an arm around Pepper's waist as Jarvis ferried them down to the basement.

"How long will we have to be there?" she asked uneasily, shifting on her golden colored sandals.

"Maybe an hour. The conference should last about thirty minutes or so, maybe up to an hour, then we'll try to escape paparazzi. Probably have a hard time with that though, considering you and all." He shrugged. "Did you take my advice?"

"Yeah. I made a few social media accounts and added a page to your website with Jarvis' help," Willow sighed. Tony had advised her to make a Facebook, Twitter, and other sites about herself and have the links ready to offer to the reporters and journalists. As the sister of Tony Stark, she'd have to keep up with them and the paparazzi that would undoubtedly follow. With Jarvis' help, she had done so.

They arrived down in the basement after saying goodbye to Pepper, and Tony led her to a classy car painted red and gold, unsurprisingly. Willow just got in wordlessly, buckling her seat belt.

"You're quiet," Tony said as they headed out onto the streets. They were only going a few blocks away.

"I don't like crowds. That must have come from my mother, but I have social anxiety. Websites I can do, not people so much," she replied uncomfortably, squirming in her seat.

"Huh. Well, I guess. Relax, we'll be out of here in two hours at least," he said, and Willow resigned herself to it.

As soon as they arrived, Tony waited for Willow to get out before offering her his arm. She raised her eyebrows at him as she took it, and he peered at her over his shades. "What, I know how to treat my sister in public," he said in a miffed tone, and she grinned.

"Barely a week and you've already grown attached. What an honor," she teased as they headed in.

"Eh, don't get too uppity just yet. I have to see how you people manage first." He smirked back.

"As long as it isn't another one of you. _You_ I can just barely manage, a roomful would be a nightmare," she snickered as they entered the lobby.

"I'm going to ignore that. By the way, just stay calm. In fact, just be a Stark and go along with me, got it?" he asked, and she barely had time to nod before he made a grand entrance into the conference room, dragging her along. Cameras flashed as Willow tried her best to keep up, drawing on her experience in the palace of Asgard to keep herself composed. She smiled as genuinely as she could, telling herself to make Phil proud of her. Make Nat proud. Make Clint proud. Her eyes suddenly flashed with mischief. She would make Clint proud, alright.

Tony went right up to the front, still not letting go of her arm. As soon as they mounted the platform, more cameras began flashing and mics were thrust at them, while a thousand questions were hurled. Tony nodded and smiled before finally waving, grabbing a mic.

"Alright, alright, settle down now people, answers are coming. I don't like being handed stuff," he added distastefully, and some laughter abounded before it all quieted down. "You." Tony pointed at a reporter.

"Mister Stark, is this your latest flame with you?" was the first question, and Willow curled her lip visibly before sending him a cold smile. Tony handed her the mic calmly.

"A pleasure to meet you as well, I'm sure. My name is Willow Stark." She smirked as cameras began wildly flashing again and voices raised.

"Calm down now, story's coming," Tony said lazily, making the room settle again. "Yeah, she's my biological sister, got the papers to prove it and everything. You just haven't heard of her because she's been sick ever since she was a child, and the family thought she'd never make it. So we kept her under wraps for her health's sake. Turns out, though, my sister is a mutant, not a leukemia patient after all." Then as the bomb dropped, Willow felt herself wanting to groan. She should've known Tony was going to make it clear what he thought about her status as a mutant.

"You." She suddenly pointed to a woman who was sitting quietly with her hand raised and a calm expression.

"Does this mean that Stark Industries will now be promoting Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters? Since a mutant is in the family?" she asked, though there was no disgust in her tone.

Tony took over. "First off, she's my sister, not just a mutant, and she does have social media which will be given after this meeting. Second, no. Stark Industries has no affiliations with Xavier's. And also, now that we know that my sister exists to the public now, let's get to the main topic," he said coolly before the questions started rolling in on the main agenda. Willow just stood there in mild boredom, absently listening and once in a while wondering what Phil, Nat, and Clint would say. Also, the question had brought up a train of thought for her. Would she visit Xavier's? Maybe Professor Charles could give her some information about herself? Was that possible? But if even Heimdall couldn't, what made her think the Professor could?

Willow was finally interrupted by more microphones being thrust in her face and a bombardment of questions. She raised her hand with a chilling glare, and then spoke in the direction of the woman.

"Yes, I am staying in Stark Tower. No, I am not going to be working for Stark Industries. My Twitter and Facebook accounts are under the name Willow Stark. Yes, you will be seeing more of me in the days to come. Thank you, and have a good day," she concluded, and swept out. Tony met her in the hallway as they made their escape.

"Nice going," he commented, and she shook her head as she slammed the car door behind her.

"Never wanna do that again," her voice was jittery.

"Hey, calm down!" Tony glanced at her as they roared away. "You alright?"

"I... Not really," she admitted weakly, tipping her head back. "I'll recover."

"Claustrophobia?"

"No. I just don't have very good memories of being surrounded by... many. Plus like I said before, social anxiety." She shook her head. "I'm fine." Her voice sounded a little stronger. "Although, now how am I gonna get to work?" she asked, annoyed.

"You're an agent aren't you? Do a disguise or something," Tony scoffed, and they neared the tower.

"Tony, as much as I appreciate your confidence in me, it doesn't quite work that way," she said dryly. "I'm not exactly a shape shifter."

He just shrugged. "You'll figure something out," he dismissed the topic, and they arrived back at the Tower. Willow collapsed into the living room, lying face down on the floor. Fenrir was sitting on the couch, eating pop tarts. Willow had guessed that the sugar would appeal to his metabolism.

"Come and see the news, you're a hit," he said through a full mouth, and Willow managed to drag herself onto the couch next to him. Her face was plastered on the television, making her wince slightly.

"I don't like looking at myself in the mirror, much less that," she groaned, then jumped as her phone went off in her pocket. "Jarvis!" she yelped, fumbling for it. "Answer please!"

 _Of course, Miss Stark._ Jarvis soothed, and a moment later she was looking at her screen.

"Hey there Dreamer!" Clint practically cheered.

"Are Phil and Nat there?" she almost shrieked.

"Ow kid, my ears, but yeah they're here." Clint grumbled.

"I'm so sorry Phil and Nat I botched up please just come and kill me or disown me now or something because I have social anxiety and I should have known that he would just blurt it all and I'm not good at this stuff I'm literally the worst agent don't let Fury find me just get rid of me now-"

Laugher cut off her hysterical babbling. "Whoa there, Willow, you're fine," Nat sounded like she was smirking. "It was actually really fun to watch them all get withered by a mutant's glare," she was definitely snickering.

"You did fine, Willow," Phil's smiling voice said.

Willow groaned. "When I come to work tomorrow morning can I just stay with Nat and Clint and not talk to anybody?" she whimpered, sinking into the cushions.

"No, you'll probably hide behind Steve. Don't be ridiculous," Fenrir snorted.

"That's right Fen, predict her," Clint cackled. "But no seriously, the kids are asking when you're coming back. Fenrir too," he added.

Willow laughed tiredly. "Not sure, which makes me sad to say." Her eyes wandered to the calendar on the wall. It was a year and four months after the 'big week' had happened, and four months since Steve had been taken out of the ice. She rubbed her eye. "Isn't Phase 2 being overseen about now?" she asked.

"I'm on duty," Clint replied, not surprised that she knew.

"You being relocated? I thought Fury wanted you near Stark," Natasha commented.

"I'm not being relocated. I doubt Fury would voluntarily let me near the thing considering where I previously came from, not to mention the fact that I was there when weapons derived from it were being used. Plus, I've kinda been exposed to it before, thanks to Howard. He doesn't like variables in the equation you know. But there's still a few things I need to do. Tell Laura and the kids I'm really sorry," she replied.

"Nah, they'll be fine," Clint said. "But I'll tell em you guys wanna come as soon as you can," he said, and Willow smiled.

"Definitely," she agreed. "So, I'm not a disgrace?"

"I've done worse," Clint chuckled.

"He has," Phil agreed.

"Hey, you're not actually supposed to agree!" Clint protested.

"He has," Nat said a little too cheerfully.

"Okay then... thanks," Willow said carefully. "See you tomorrow?"

"I thought you'd be stuck to Cap like glue tomorrow," Nat deadpanned.

"Nah, that's Phil," she snickered back.

"Ohhhh, he's giving you that deadly smile Willow," Clint hooted.

"I'm gonna pay for that somehow later, aren't I," Willow sighed.

"It won't be discreet," Phil said agreeably, and Willow blanched.

"I have a Fenrir!" she squeaked.

"Leave me out of your mischief," Fenrir said, unimpressed.

"Get your head out of my pop tarts," she sulked.

"Alright then, see you tomorrow," Nat said, and Willow grinned.

"If I can avoid Phil," she laughed.

"Good point," Clint grinned.

"Bye!" They hung up and Willow curled up on the couch. "I'm not going to work tomorrow," she whispered.

* * *

Fenrir snorted.

"Oh shut up, Fen," Willow grumbled as they walked into the headquarters.

"Well if it isn't Miss Popular." A man sauntered up with a grin her way. "Nice show yesterday," he commented, following her to the water fountain.

"Thanks," Willow said simply, while Fenrir looked around. Probably for Phil.

"So, are you-"

"No thanks, Derek, I don't drink coffee," she said with a rather fanged smile, then walked away from the lower class agent. He was the flirty type, and while Willow didn't see any real harm in him, he was a nuisance most of the time. Instead, she went up to the third floor to check with Agent Maria Hill, who just shook her head when Willow stuck her head in the door. In other words, no mission today from Fury - at least, yet.

With a shrug, Willow made her way to one of the smaller offices that crunched information, knocking on the door before slipping in.

"Hi Willow!" a few voices chimed, and Willow waved back. This was the room where she spent a lot of her time, not only because she often filed her and Team Delta's reports, but also because she'd found someone here that she had formed a friendship with. Plus, it was quiet.

Willow slid into the desk next to a young man, probably in his early twenties. He had dull blue eyes and plastic-rimmed blue glasses, with scruffy brown hair and no care for clothing whatsoever. He often wore a hoodie over his uniform shirt, and unnerved others because of his blank gaze and monotone voice. But Willow found him to have a sharp mind and a quiet demeanor that she appreciated.

"Hey Rhee," she murmured, turning on the computer and setting her Stark Phone on the desk. Fenrir curled up between them, and Rhee bent to pet Fenrir's head.

"Hi," he replied in his usual monotone.

"Do we get to do the usual for break?" she asked softly.

"Sure. Congratulations." He glanced over at her, and she grinned.

"Thanks," she replied, turning to her computer. "I might be able to get you in, if you want," she added nonchalantly, and felt him actually pause. He blinked at her. "I'm taking that as a yes." She smirked his way and went back to looking up some info on Jane Foster's work.

"Thanks," his voice was a little quieter.

"I also might want to give you special access to come visit me. There's a lab and my floor has a computer system you'd like," she went on, then turned to her phone, tapping it. "Jarv, can you please put Rhee in the system? And tell Tony," she said.

"Of course, Miss Stark."

This time, Rhee adjusted his glasses. "You don't have to."

"No, I don't, but I like you. Starks can get what they want," she said it somewhat bitterly. "Besides, I need a few favors," she said, while numbers flashed across her screen.

Rhee had returned to his screen, his fingers flying over the keyboard. "Sure." The thing about Rhee was that he literally had no tact, except when he had to. His life was left open for all and any superiors to see, and was absurdly simple though his skills were abundant. He reminded her slightly of a quiet Tony. And, she found out, he was a genius hacker.

"I need you to do a job for me," she said casually, still typing away at her search bar. "And if you need it, Jarvis will help you cover your tracks."

His clacking paused again, and she knew she'd gotten his attention. Rhee also _liked_ hacking. He could probably be a secret level ten if he wanted.

"Lunch break sounding a little better?" She sent him a wolfish grin. He didn't smile back, but a tiny spark entered his dull eyes.

"A lot better." He gave her the OK.

Willow shut down her system, having found the information she wanted. "See you then," she said, and followed Fenrir down the hall.

"Risky," Fenrir mentioned quietly.

"You mean Rhee?"

"Don't be ridiculous, I meant the job," he huffed.

"Good point," she agreed. "But then again, it's rather necessary don't you think?" she asked.

"I wouldn't know," he grumbled, and Willow almost facepalmed.

"Right, you don't know the future," she muttered. "Anyway, ignore my stupidity. Shall we find Cap?"

"Over here," Fenrir sighed, veering off into another corridor. Willow followed, her phone in one hand. When Fenrir finally stopped, it was at a more deserted corridor. Willow looked at Fenrir, then knocked at a door.

"C-come in," a slightly startled voice said, and Willow opened the door and poked her head in.

"Steve?"

Steve's head shot up from a rather cramped desk, papers everywhere as he turned red to see her.

"Willow!" he exclaimed, then set down the pen. "I didn't expect to see you."

Willow came in, letting Fenrir prowl around the tiny office. "Well, I certainly wasn't expecting to find you here," she laughed lightly, then sat on the edge of the table. "What made you choose this little space?"

Steve sighed. "I'm still getting used to life here. Other places are a little too much right now, so I figured that somewhere quiet was a better place to get my mind to focus." He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. Willow hummed, listing to the side as she looked at his papers.

"Filing a report, huh? Makes sense."mshe nodded. "Need any help? I'll be free until lunch break," she offered.

"Oh... If you don't mind." He smiled back thankfully.

"You're family Steve," she replied lightly, then began to help him with the paperwork. Fenrir just stretched out on his side at their feet, enjoying the warmth of company. Willow still glanced at him once in a while, though. She worried about him sometimes.

Willow slipped into a café down the block from the SHIELD headquarters. The baristas didn't give her a second glance, used to agents and business people coming in all the time. Fenrir was with her, but as a quiet puppy so no one protested his appearance. Slipping into a more quiet spot in a corner, Willow pulled out her Stark Phone as Fenrir perched on her lap, though she didn't have to wait very long. A few minutes later, a cup appeared on the table and Rhee sat down across from her, holding his own hot chocolate. Willow grinned, handing him her phone while opening the cup to offer Fenrir some.

"Hey Rhee. Jarvis is ready," she said, while Fenrir licked gingerly at the drink. He took the phone, tapping the screen to make it open.

 _Hello, sir. Ready for orders._ Jarvis greeted.

"Hello. What do you want me to do?" Rhee looked at her with his usual blank look.

"You know that research base right outside of D.C.?" she asked, and he nodded.

"The one run by Military General Ross," he replied, and she had no doubt that he wasn't really high enough in the ranks to legally know that.

"Can you get in for me? I need access to schedules and labs and especially the camera feeds." She leaned forwards, sliding a small chip under the table and attaching it to the underside of the table. He frowned.

"I'll need a greater space to work than a phone screen," he said, and Willow nodded.

"I know. Use this." Her hands made an expanding motion, and a digital screen appeared on the table top. Rotating it, she pushed it towards him. He blinked, then nodded and began to give quiet instructions to Jarvis. No one was paying attention, and Willow had chosen that seat because it was hidden from other people's views.

Five minutes later, they were in the system and Rhee was navigating the firewalls around information. Two more minutes and muted security camera screens were scattered around. Rhee made a throwing motion (he caught on quickly to how the tech worked) and a stack of screens rotated towards her, which she proceeded to shuffle through. She finally found the one she was looking for: a lab where a brown-haired, blue-eyed lithe woman was working in a white coat and goggles. Her face was tired and her eyes rather heavy, though she didn't seem to be speaking much as she moved about the lab. Willow caught Rhee's attention and motioned to the vid.

"Doctor Betty Ross, graduate of Culver," she murmured. "Anything on her?"

Rhee shuffled through the system, and sent her the info sheet. Willow read through it, then curled her lip. "Also files on gamma radiation and experiments, please. Code word Hulk," she added, and felt Rhee give her a glance. "Would you mind if I moved you into my department as a personal aide?" she suddenly asked. "Because I'd like an excuse to keep you near and also give you this once in a while," she said, and slid into his lap the level ten card.

This time, Rhee actually stopped and looked at her. "Why?"

Willow raised an eyebrow at him. "I'd like to think we're friends." She tilted her head. "I also know you're trustworthy and I'm pretty sure you know I'd never ask you to do something you'd feel uncomfortable with," she went on, turning to the table top computer again, while Fenrir leaped up to watch as well, sitting in a corner. "Your skills that others would consider useless or otherwise are ones that I'd like to keep. Oh, and you're sensible and don't get on my nerves." Then she grinned at him. "So, what do you think of me?"

Rhee just sat there for a moment, but she waited patiently. He finally allowed a small twitch of his lips, adjusting his glasses. "I'll do it. You're nice," he said simply, and Willow knew that the statement meant from him was a symbol of tentative trust.

"Thanks," she said, and was suddenly bombarded with the material she had asked for. She pursed her lips and shook her head, relieved that there wasn't any info that she'd have to tamper with to keep Ross off Bruce's track. With a contented nod, she looked at Rhee. "Anything interesting?" she asked curiously. He shook his head.

"SHIELD is more advanced in science work, besides Doctor Banner and Ross' work on gamma radiation. I majored in technological engineering, not biological science," he replied flatly.

"Alright then, you can pull out, thanks," Willow said, and leaned back to stretch in her chair. "You can dig around SHIELD if you want, we've got twenty minutes left," she added casually. He immersed himself in the data banks, using her card to pull rank. When the break was finally over, he pulled out and handed her the card and phone, while Willow slipped the chip back into her pocket.

"Of course, I never said anything." She smiled lazily. "Get ready to be promoted within the week." This time she smirked at him, then stood and grabbed Fenrir, tossing the empty cup in the trash can. He stood, throwing away his own cup, then nodded at her.

"Sounds fine," he replied, and she patted his arm.

"You're great, Rhee," she laughed, then walked out while he followed. They were wearing nondescript clothes with hoods pulled up, just in case there were any paparazzi of the Starks around. Ever since the conference the day before, Willow had had problems whenever she so much as showed her face at the door of Stark Tower. Her Facebook and Twitter accounts had gained too many followers to count during the night, and she had already made a few casual posts just to get them off her back. Comments abounded, and while there were some harmful gossip, she ignored them and just updated about life with Tony, posting pictures of her with him and Fen, or an occasional picture with Pepper. She didn't really look forwards to keeping up with it, but she knew that she'd have to. In the meantime though -

They arrived back at the building, and Willow suddenly smiled as she changed back into her uniform in the bathroom. She knew what her next self-assigned mission would be. Walking into her office, she picked up her iPhone and called Steve's phone, which she knew he carried around everywhere. There were a few moments before he finally picked up.

"Willow?" he asked curiously.

"Hey Steve, can you spare a minute?" she asked, picking up another paper in her hand and going down the list.

"Sure. Just doing paperwork," he replied.

"Oh good. I was wondering if you'd be up for a trip with me, preferably tomorrow," she said, locating the number she wanted and circling it with a highlighter.

"Oh... Umm, if Fury's okay with it, sure," Steve replied hesitantly.

"I'll be sure to clear it with him, so don't worry," she reassured. "Wanna stay over in my flat tonight? I've got it all set up for guests and everything now," she offered.

"Uh - sure. We're going together then?"

"Meet you at the front desk, checkout time!" she replied, and he agreed before hanging up.

She hung up and set the phone down, picking up the office phone and dialing a number while circling yet another. There was barely three rings before it was picked up.

"Agent Coulson," was the crisp greeting.

"Hey Phil," she said, cradling the phone between her neck and trying to do something else at the same time. "I've gotta ask a favor."

"Favor?" Phil's voice sounded skeptical.

"Oh don't do that Phil, I promise it's reasonable," she snickered.

"Depends," he replied, and she sighed.

"I know, I know, you have a grudge. Well, I was gonna ask if Steve and I could be spared tomorrow. I was planning on taking a visit to a certain school for certain people here in New York," she hinted, and heard a pause.

"Why?" Phil asked, sounding cautious.

"There are some personal questions I need answered; besides, I think it would do Steve a world of good to meet other people like him besides me. People who are comfortable with people like him. Plus, he's a great artist. He might find it relaxing to just take a day off to sketch himself to therapy," she pointed out reasonably. "Phil, I just want your permission to take to Fury. I'll ask him for the break myself," she wheedled.

"Fine." Phil broke down. "Just make sure that you're back by the day after tomorrow," he said sternly, and Willow grinned.

"Sure thing, Phil, thanks!" she exclaimed, and hung up. She then called Fury's phone, which as a level ten she had direct access to.

"Hello," Fury's dangerous voice said sharply.

"That doesn't sound like a happy greeting, Director," Willow remarked, tapping away at her phone.

"Maybe because it's not. Do you happen to have any idea why I haven't heard anything from Phase 2 in three days?" he demanded, and Willow's eyebrows skyrocketed.

"No sir, I have no idea. She should be behaving just fine - Clint didn't say anything," she said, sitting back in her chair even as she tried to calm her pounding heart. She'd wondered if he had gotten notice about a hack for a moment.

Fury grunted. "You're no better with cryptic messages than Agent Romanoff," he complained. "Is there a reason you called me?"

"Yessir, I wouldn't think of calling without reason," she said seriously, sitting up. "Actually I have two requests. One, that Agent Rogers and I get a one-day break tomorrow, and two, that I be able to choose an assistant," she placed her requests.

"For what purpose?" Fury asked, voice not betraying any emotion.

"To go take a visit to some friends. Therapy," she paraphrased. "I promised Phil we'd be back the day after tomorrow as soon as I got the green light from you, Director," she added.

"It's unusual, but I suppose since Agent Rogers is still new he could use some more therapy," he conceded. "As for an assistant, you can choose someone from the list," he said.

"Actually I was hoping for Agent Rhee. He's good with information, and knows when to keep his mouth shut. I've worked with him before," she hinted.

"As you wish. Now if that is all, Agent Stark, I have things to do." And the call was disconnected. Willow blinked at it, then rolled her eyes and placed the phone down.

"Well, two tasks down and who knows how many more to go," she sighed, and got to it.

By the time she finally made it down to the checkout desk, it was six PM and she was feeling exhausted. Rhee had been duly promoted, and she had caught up on enough paperwork to last the next day too, so she wouldn't be behind when they got back. Her work was mostly filing reports that came in from field agents, and monitoring certain projects. Phase 2 wasn't one of them, but other minor projects were there to poke in to.

Steve was waiting for her, and he frowned as he looked at her, Fenrir following behind. "You look exhausted," he commented, taking her hand. She shook her head, tugging him down another road.

"Well I am tired, but I pushed myself today," she replied. "C'mon, I have to avoid paparazzi. Tony has Happy pick me up in this alley," she said, and sure enough Happy was there. Steve just got in the car wordlessly, greeting Happy politely.

"Hi Happy," Willow said wearily, leaning back in her chair with a yawn and stretching. Fenrir leaped into her lap to sniff her face, and she rubbed his ears obligingly.

"Hello Miss, Sir. Did you have a good day at work?" Happy asked innocently, his rotund face smiling through the rearview mirror.

"A productive one, yes," Willow laughed, then leaned against Steve. "So I got permission for tomorrow," she said.

"Great," he answered genuinely. "Where are we going?"

"Not too far away, actually," she admitted. "Still here in New York, but I'll convince Tony to let us take the jet," she said, petting Fenrir as he panted contentedly.

"Lemme guess, that's all I'm gonna get," Steve said resignedly, and Willow grinned.

"It's a surprise, Steve. A good one, hopefully," she promised, and he just smiled and nodded down at her.

"Sounds good," he said, as they arrived at the tower. "Congratulations by the way," he said, and Willow sighed.

"Thanks."

They entered the tower, going up to her floor. "Make yourself at home," she said, waving her hand while flopping on the couch.

 _Welcome home, Miss Stark. Welcome, Mister Rogers._ Jarvis spoke up, and Steve jerked slightly.

"Oh, right. Hello, Jarvis," Steve said, automatically glancing up.

"Thanks Jarv. Is Pep or Tony home?" Willow asked, while Fenrir morphed and stretched, padding to the kitchen, presumably for his pop tarts.

 _Sir is currently in the lab, and Miss Potts is in her office._ Jarvis informed her.

"Thanks. Ask Tony if he has any dinner plans?" she asked, just as Steve came out of the guest room.

"I'll take a quick shower, if you don't mind," he said, and Willow waved him off.

"Your home, remember? I'll see if we have any dinner plans." She looked up at the ceiling again for Jarvis.

 _Miss Stark, Sir says that he has already ordered takeout and it is on its way. He wishes to meet you on the top floor when you're ready._ Jarvis spoke up again, and Willow walked towards her room.

"You're the best Jarvis. Please tell him we'll be there after showers," she said, then went to take said shower.

She and Steve and Fenrir finally took the elevator up, where Tony was waiting. Willow flopped over on Tony's lap where he sat on the couch.

"Whoa kid, that's too much contact." Tony gingerly shoved her off.

She pouted at him. "Big bro, can I borrow the jet tomorrow?" she pleaded, giving him the puppy eyes. Tony tried to ignore her face.

"Any reason? Hi Cap," he said, still not looking at her.

"Hello, Stark," Steve replied politely.

"I wanna take Steve somewhere tomorrow," she replied.

"Fine, fine, but I'm going with you." Tony gave in. "Just stop with that look," he grumbled, handing Steve a drink.

"Yay! You can come?" Willow asked, getting dragged next to Fenrir instead.

"Yeah, I got nothing tomorrow," Tony agreed, downing his drink.

"You look like you got a little singed," Steve said with a concerned look.

"Huh? Oh, right. Just a little accident in the lab. It'll be fine." Tony brushed it off.

"Jarvis, it was an _accident_ , right?" Willow asked suspiciously.

 _For once, Miss, it was._ Jarvis replied smoothly.

"Jarv, not cool." Tony pointed at the ceiling.

"Steve, only believe half of what Toto says about his scientific research. Most times he'll say he got a little nicked and that means that he blew up half the lab." Willow shook her finger at Tony, who glared at her.

"I'm _not_ Toto, _Will_ ," Tony growled.

"Now, let's not be childish..." Steve raised his hands.

"They _are_ children, Steve, it's useless," Fenrir informed the Captain.

"I resent that," Tony humphed.

"Anyway, I was hoping to visit Professor X tomorrow." Willow tugged Tony's sleeve.

"Him? Well I guess," Tony shrugged after a startled moment.

"I think Steve would like it." Willow tilted her head.

"Possibly," Tony acquiesced.

They ate dinner in relative silence, too tired to do anything else. Willow told Tony that they'd be ready to leave at ten the next morning, then said good night and collapsed into the elevator. Steve looked down at her.

"Do you do that often? It looks uncomfortable," he remarked.

"It is, but it's more comfortable than standing," she groaned, then crawled out of the elevator. "I'm going to bed. Good night, Steve," she sighed, and felt Steve shake his head.

"Good night, Willow, Fenrir."

Willow half-hoped she'd dream-hop that night. It never happened.


	15. Admissions

_Hello everyone! I'm sincerely sorry it's been forever, but I come bearing good news! I haven't had time to update recently because college finals are looming, but it'll all be over in a week and I'll have much more time to write and update over the summer!_

 _So thanks for sticking with Willow and our cast throughout the journey. I hope you'll enjoy this next installment. To all my followers, favorites, general audience, and reviewers, thank you for all of your support. It means a lot!_

 _So without further ado, please_

 _Read!_

 _Enjoy!_

 _Review!_

* * *

Chapter 13

When Willow woke up, her head was aching as usual. She'd figured out that if she didn't let the dream creatures she'd absorbed out for a while every week, she'd start to get headaches that would turn into migraines if she continued to ignore it. She wasn't exactly sure why though, so she also wanted to see if Professor X could tell her more about her mutation and maybe give her some advice on how to deal with it. She did feel a little nervous though. What if he could see her mind and everything she knew about? Come to think of it, how old was he now anyway?

 _Good morning, Miss Stark. The weather is supposed to be a little cooler than normal today, with a high of eighty two and a forty percent chance of rain. It is currently eight fifty in the morning. Master Fenrir and Steve are awake and in the kitchen_. Jarvis' cool British voice made her sit up.

"Oh great! I slept later than usual!" She stumbled out of bed with a groan. "What's Steve doing?" she asked, trying to fix her bed with clumsy fingers and then yanking a brush through her scruffy hair.

 _Trying to figure out what is where, I believe._ Jarvis replied, and Willow had to snort as she threw some clothes on and headed out, tying up her hair.

"Morning Fen, Steve," she said, walking into the kitchen. Steve turned with a slightly awkward grin.

"Oh, good morning Willow. I wasn't exactly sure where everything is..." He looked at the cupboards.

"What were you planning on making? I usually toast pop tarts for Fen and make myself something else. I can make you something if you want," she offered, taking the box from Fen and plugging in the toaster.

"Oh. Well, I was just going to look around and see what you have, but anything would be fine with me. I can help," Steve replied, following her around.

"Sure, thanks. The pantry to your left should have a box of waffle mix. I'll make some of that if you'll make scrambled eggs and bacon," she said, getting a dozen eggs out of the fridge and putting them in a bowl while grabbing a package of diced bacon. They made the food in relative silence, eating it quietly before putting dishes in the dishwasher and sitting in the living room.

"I should teach you how to make protein shakes," Willow suddenly said. "It would save you a lot of time when you feel like snacking."

"I've heard of those," Steve said thoughtfully. "I thought you bought them at the store, though."

"Well you can, but it's better to make them yourself. Healthier," she explained.

"So who's Professor X?" Fenrir spoke up, scrolling on her iPhone.

"We're leaving at ten, right?" Steve asked.

"Yes, we are." She nodded. "And Professor X is the owner of the school," Willow hazarded.

"Vague." Fenrir raised an eyebrow at her.

"Blame big brother," she retorted, then looked to Steve. "You wearing that today?" she asked with a smile to show she meant no offense.

"I'm not sure what's proper to wear..." he replied, looking down at his casual blue t-shirt and white slacks.

"Eh, anything is fine. The Professor isn't really picky about that sort of stuff, and only a few of the school occupants are." She shrugged.

"So that's why you look like a homeless person," Fenrir said, unimpressed.

"Shut it, Fen, _you_ may be royalty but this is comfortable to us peasants, I'll have you know," she sniffed as Steve smothered his laughter.

"So, Steve, you're going to have to catch up on the newer movies and stuff eventually," she said slyly.

Steve shook his head. "I've already watched all the Disney movies I could find," he admitted.

"Nice! What's your favorite so far?" Willow asked curiously.

Steve hesitated. "I'd probably have to say it's a tie between the Princess and the Frog and Tangled," he admitted, and Willow grinned.

"Oh, those are good ones," she agreed. "Personally I love Brother Bear and Bolt."

"I did enjoy those," Steve agreed, perking up. "Up was sad though."

"Oh please don't talk about Up, I actually cried in the theatre even if I didn't enjoy it as much as other Disney movies," she sighed. Steve chuckled.

"What should I try next?" he asked.

"Oh! Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, BBC's Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Who, Sound of Music, countless others," she laughed back, enjoying the growing shock on his face. "Lots."

"That... that is a lot," he said in a strained voice. They continued talking about iconic things in America until Jarvis pinged with a time warning. Ten minutes later, they were dressed, had something close to a weapon in their pockets, and Willow had Fenrir in her arms as they headed for the jet pad on the roof. They arrived to find Tony walking onto the ramp of the jet with his hands stuck in his pockets.

"C'mon slow pokes! We're supposed to get goin'!" Tony called, and they got on board while Steve looked around, impressed. Willow chose a seat shotgun, flopping in the chair and looking out the window.

"Jarv, autopilot to Professor X's school please," Willow said before Tony could.

 _Autopilot engaged, Miss Stark. Travel time estimated twenty minutes._ Jarvis replied, and the ramp closed as they began safety checks and takeoff procedure.

"Jarvis, I thought I was the one who gave orders," Tony said suspiciously.

 _Miss Stark has the necessary DNA codes to engage any and all procedures, and my matrix has recognized her other bodily functions and unique features. It is futile to ask for verification for authorization_. Jarvis replied, and Willow grinned smugly.

"You're awesome, Jarvis," she snickered. "But what if a shapeshifter happens to appear that looks like me, DNA and everything?" she asked amusedly.

 _Shapeshifters will have different radioactive properties and magnetic wavelengths, Miss Stark. Yours is unique to all other recorded persons in the world_. Jarvis answered.

"Amazing," Steve remarked.

"He is," Willow replied contentedly, leaning back in the chair with her hands folded.

"Must I remain in this form?" Fenrir asked, squirming slightly.

"Wait till we get to the mansion, Fen, then you can tear along the grounds and shift as much as you like," Tony was, surprisingly, the one who answered.

"You've met the Prof?" Willow asked somewhat excitedly, sitting up.

"Yeah. Helped him with a couple things in the mansion, plus I wanted to work with Hank at least once." He shrugged.

"So it's a school for mutants?" Steve guessed, picking up on their conversation.

"Yep. Where mutants can be free to live relatively normal lives with other kids like them in a non-hostile environment and learn to control and be comfortable with their mutations. Also, they learn normal stuff like kids in regular schools do," Willow explained, while Fenrir leaped off her lap and instead paced in the cabin to stretch his restless limbs.

"You've never been there?" Steve asked, tilting his head.

"No, but I'm well aware of the Professor and quite a few other mutants," she replied, then looked out the window. "Oh, looks like Jarvis got us there a bit quickly," she remarked, pointing down. Steve came up behind her to look, while Tony propped his feet up on the dashboard-like console from where he sat in the pilot's seat.

 _Yes, Miss Stark. Destination has been reached. Landing procedures engaged._ Jarvis said, then began to land slowly and carefully just inside the gates on the front lawn.

"Are we allowed to land here?" Steve asked worriedly.

"Charles won't mind once he figures out it's me," Tony reassured, then headed down the ramp nonchalantly.

"Thanks Jarvis," Willow called, then picked up Fenrir. "Wait till we meet the Professor, then I'll ask if you can go take a run," she promised, and he nodded before flopping his head on her arm. Willow grabbed Steve's hand with her other hand that wasn't holding Fenrir and urged him towards Tony's advancing figure. He didn't protest.

"It's big," he murmured, looking around the grounds.

"Hmm. The X-Mansion has been rebuilt several times already."

"Why?" he sounded startled.

"It's been... err... destroyed several times already. By several forces," she fumbled.

"O-oh," he said unsurely.

"Don't worry, the X-Men are more than capable of handling whatever life throws at them." She smiled, then followed Tony through the front door. Several students stared at them as they entered, and a few seemed to recognize Tony.

They finally arrived at a door through the winding halls, and Tony knocked. "Come in," a voice said, mellow and smooth with an almost-British lilt that Willow found somewhat odd. But she knew it, nonetheless. A moment later, Tony had strolled in while Willow and Steve followed, Fenrir's eyes lazily but piercingly looking around.

There was no one in the office but the Professor, and Willow immediately recognized him. Longer blonde hair and brown eyes framed a kind smile, while the armrests of the silver wheelchair peeped up just behind the mahogany wood desk. The Professor's eyes held recognition when they landed on Tony, then glanced to her and Fenrir and Steve with interest. Willow wondered if he was reading them now.

"Tony! It's good to see you again. And you've brought guests to visit me, wonderful. Please, sit," he said cheerfully, motioning to a few chairs about the room. Steve picked up one to place it behind her, to which she nodded gratefully and sat down. Tony reclined in his while Steve nodded at the Professor before sitting down.

"Yeah, great, Charles," Tony started flippantly. "I'm just here 'cause my sister wanted to visit and bring her Golden Retriever. While you're talking can I take Fen for a walk?" he asked, reaching for Fenrir. Willow handed him to her brother.

"That would be fine, Tony. Thank you for coming. I believe Logan is out there somewhere as well," Charles advised, and Tony sauntered back out, letting Fenrir down. Then he turned to Willow and Steve. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Stark, Mister..." He looked curiously at Steve, who almost automatically sat up. Willow couldn't blame him. Charles had an iron sort of presence despite his polite and soft-spoken gentleness.

"Steve Rogers, sir. Just Steve would be fine," he said politely, as always.

"Steve Rogers? I sense that you are very old, yet you seem to look young..." Charles hinted. Steve's lips quirked slightly.

"Captain America at your service, sir. I haven't exactly been exposed to the public yet like Willow has," Steve replied self-deprecatingly.

"Ah. That would explain it. Welcome back, Steve." Charles took it in stride. When his eyes turned to her, though, she could almost feelthe wariness in his eyes though it wasn't evident otherwise. "Miss Stark. Congratulations."

Thank you, Professor," Willow replied softly. "It's my genuine honor to finally meet you. I've been meaning to come." She smiled. Steve excused himself to go find a restroom, sensing no doubt that Willow wanted to talk to the professor alone.

"All those with active X-genes are welcome here," Charles replied with a small nod.

"About that - I wanted to come to ask for your help. I don't know anyone else who has as much knowledge and expertise as you do about the gene, and I'm having some confusion with my mutation. I'm very familiar with the bioscience of it, and I can control it to the extent that I don't harm anyone, but it's fairly new and I'm not sure how far my abilities actually extend," Willow sighed, looking down at her hands.

"Your story is unusual. I've never heard of anyone with your symptoms before," Charles murmured. "Many of the students in this school were interested to hear of you on the news," he hinted.

"Your self-restraint is admirable, Professor," Willow laughed. "And also wise; I'm not sure if I can actually be read or not. You're welcome to try," she offered. Charles' eyebrows went up but he looked at her carefully, and Willow felt a stir in her own head. The several presences that she had absorbed before from dreams and lingered always in the back of her awareness suddenly flared to life, raging to what felt like her temples as she gritted her teeth in pain at the headache that assaulted her forehead. The Professor gasped and jerked back in his chair while Willow cradled her head in her hands and groaned.

"I expected that," she groaned.

"What - what are your abilities?" Charles asked in a hoarse voice, rubbing his own head.

"I'm called DreamCatcher," Willow replied tiredly. "I hop into people's nightmares and absorb their terrors somehow into my own mind. I can also make them real and tangible and control them," she said, feeling the pain recede and the presences retire warily. "Every time I absorb them, my mind actually expands to accommodate them, almost like downloading something onto a device. If I don't let them out often enough, I get migraines," she explained.

Charles seemed to recover, eyebrows furrowing in interest. "Well I've certainly never seen anything like that before. It's like you keep them as pets. They certainly act like guard dogs for your mind," he admitted. "They are sentient on their own. That's why I felt more than just you when you came in, and you were smothered by theirs," he said almost to himself. Then he wheeled from behind his desk and came towards her. Willow looked at the joystick that propelled the chair, suddenly remembering her own with a pang of pained recognition. He stopped in front of her, and she looked up at his face.

"You recognize the chair?" Charles asked interestedly. Willow breathed a laugh.

"I used to use one." She shrugged. "Just like yours."

"Since I can't read you, I suppose you'll have to tell me," he chuckled invitingly, and Willow suddenly turned her head towards the window. Should she tell him? Or not? She knew she could trust the Professor. That wasn't the issue. The issue was wondering if the Professor would try to do something about future events. He couldn't. Would he see that? Something in her said he would.

"Can I make a deal with you, Professor?" she suddenly asked, looking at him. He looked back at her, intrigued.

"What sort of deal?" he asked politely.

Willow looked into the brown eyes. Apocalypse hadn't happened yet. That was obvious. She wondered how the X-Men events had never roped in the Avengers and vice-versa, then decided that since Days of Future Past, it had been forgotten by the rest of the world and no one really thought too much of the X-Men anymore. Apocalypse had been something that had happened a long time after that, and besides, Marvel did have some plot holes - and there she went again, confusing realities. Well, if Marvel was right, and by proxy the Voice, then things wouldn't overlap anyway. Plus, maybe she would inadvertently help the X-Men anyway. Her mind made a decision, influenced by her heart and instincts.

"I think I can convince these guard dogs," she tapped the side of her temple, "to let you in. The only thing is, I just want you to promise that you'll keep what I share a secret, buried deep and never told to anyone. It isn't pretty, I have to warn you," her voice dropped, and her eyes looked into his. Sunlight filtered through the window, illuminating the Professor's face. The silence stretched for a moment before he finally spoke.

"And if I can't?" he asked, just as lowly.

Her smile felt a little fanged, but she ignored it. "You won't be able to disagree," she replied with a shrug.

He studied her face carefully, and she met his gaze evenly. "Very well," he finally acquiesced, and Willow nodded, closing her eyes. Charles' fingers gently pressed against her temples, and as he brushed against her mind, she gently reined in the beings that made to surge forwards. They settled, but still remained slightly more alert than they had been when she wasn't directly thinking about them. Charles entered, and Willow buried her own personal secrets deep down in her mind, bringing her life story to the front like a movie, memory by memory and frame by frame.

When she opened her eyes, she saw that Charles was sweating, his face contorted in pain and anguish. His finger trembled. "No... _no_..." he whispered. "The pain... your - I don't-" He gritted his teeth, jaw ticking.

"Focus on the events, Professor," she whispered, then after going over events up till then, rewinded. She took him back to her movie binges and studying. She showed him all of the X-Men movies she had happened to watch, all the information she had bothered to pick up. She never got to the Avengers, only just barely finishing Apocalypse before he yanked himself out, leaning away from her and breathing raggedly. She just sat there, waiting patiently.

"Why?" Charles finally asked. "Why would you -" His eyes searched her face desperately.

"Why would I show you? Or do you mean why would I be given that knowledge?" she asked discerningly, leaning against the wall.

"Both," he whispered, shakily drinking from a glass of water.

"How am I supposed to know why the universe chose me?" she asked, palms up. "I'm just a pawn in the cosmic game, Professor. Why would I get an explanation?" she laughed bitterly. "As for why I show you? You know better than anyone that to tell would cause disaster. Why would I tell you, then? I'm giving it to you because if I'm to be the fulcrum of the universe, then I'm tipping the balance in your favor." She stood up, turning towards the window. "Professor, I'm giving you the knowledge, and I'm washing my hands of what you do with it." She turned her head to glance at him. "I'm not going to stop you from using that information," she said quietly.

Understanding dawned on his face as he looked at her. "To fix," he said softly. She quirked a smile.

"I'm sorry if my own memories overwhelm you. I don't know how to control that," she apologized.

"How do you bear it?" Charles suddenly asked, and Willow gave a startled laugh.

"I'm not," she said, shaking her head just as Fenrir streaked by the window. "I've gotten banished from one world, and now I'm being kept under watch here. I've made mistakes. I'm just winging it." She smiled at him self-deprecatingly. "Nah, I don't handle it well. Telling you was a risk, but I did it anyway," she pointed out. "Probably telling you I'm not going to meddle in what you do is a risk, but I'm doing it anyway." She leaned against the edge of a smaller table, looking at the Professor.

"That is true," he agreed, moving his wheelchair to the window to look out at the lawn as well. Fenrir was chasing after Steve, who was taking a jog himself, while Tony apparently jeered at them both. "But what I see in you reminds me of another... old friend of mine." He glanced at her, and Willow smirked.

"Lehnsherr?" She followed his line of sight. "I don't know whether to be insulted or flattered."

"You both have noble aspects, but they are rather overshadowed by your personal motivations," Charles replied somewhat bitingly, not quite looking at her.

Willow stood there quietly, eyebrows furrowed. "I'm not sure why you're surprised," she finally said, still observing Fenrir.

"Do you not care about mutants and humans?" he asked.

Willow's head turned to him sharply. "Professor, I am _not_ a hero. I'm a mutant girl who's older than she should be with the mind of an eighteen year old who has been placed under the services of the universe. _All_ life is sacred to me, and should never be toyed with. I will never court Death. Nevertheless, I'm not Captain America, all virtuous paragon of patriotism and heroism and nobleness. I'm the first to tell you that I'm a supremely selfish person over those closest to me. I would put their lives over my own country if I were presented with such a choice. I'm not saying that's good; it's probably not. But I'm someone who will not be called a hero," she said lowly, then sighed through her nose, tilting her head up and closing her eyes. "Like Erik Lehnsherr, I may have had a pure heart once but experience has darkened me. Perhaps not to the extent like him, but neither am I above reproach."

There was a moment of thoughtful quiet before he finally replied. "So you care more for the individual people you love than humanity as a whole," he deduced, and she looked back at him, tilting her head.

"That's a bit callous. Like I said, I support all life. But yes, I'm especially selfish about particular people. That said, I'd rather cut the line than lay on it for others to walk over," she borrowed a line from her brother.

"Then perhaps we can come to a mutual friendship, so long as life is valued," Charles said, turning to her with a smile. She smiled back, unsure of what he thought of her now. She had always been rather painfully honest, only using tact when it could possibly lead to war.

"I doubt friendship would thrive, but certainly respect, Professor," she laughed lightly, and he chuckled.

"That I can deal with," he said agreeably. "You're welcome to visit when you need it, and I'd be glad to help you with your abilities."

"Thank you. I'll try to work on it on my own. You've helped clarify some things for me though. I'll go try to stop my idiots from tearing up your lawn," she said amusedly, bowing before going to the door.

"Thank you, Willow," Charles replied with a nod, going back to his work as she nodded and left.

Willow slowly walked through the hall, head down as she lost herself in thought. So, apparently she was impervious to mental attacks thanks to her sentient mental guard dogs, which explained why she got migraines if she didn't 'take them out for a run.' And that didn't even cover why she was able to dream-hop. Would she be considered telekinetic or telepathic to a mild extent, then? What about this whole deal with the Professor, then? Was that a good idea? Could things... get better? Just maybe? Or had she made things worse? She was just about to shake it off with a sigh - what was done was done - when she let out a slight yelp after bumping into someone.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I should have been watching where I was going-" She looked up to see a pair of startled brown eyes staring down at her. "Oh. Hello," she said, grinning sheepishly.

"It's fine," Hank brushed it off, shaking his head and letting go of her.

"Thanks for catching me, I'm off!" she called, sliding around him and hoping that he wouldn't ask her anything else.

"Um, Miss Stark?"

Willow winced slightly before turning around. "Yes?"

"The front door is that way." He pointed to the left.

"Thanks, but I'm taking the kitchen door..." She pointed down the hall she was going. Before he could say anything else, she ran. Alright, maybe she shouldn't have made him suspicious how she knew that, but whatever. It wasn't that she didn't like Hank or the Beast, she just didn't really didn't like talking to new people. At all. Social anxiety sucked.

She finally made her way out onto the lawn, just as Fenrir came sprinting around the corner and leaped on her. Willow yelped, tumbling to the ground as Fenrir panted and nosed her face. She laughed, shoving his muzzle away from her as Steve rounded the corner. Tony was busting a kidney laughing at her.

"Fen you idjit, get off me!" she cried, "your nose is wet, ewwwww!" she shrieked, scrambling out from under him and barreling towards Steve. She leaped behind him, sticking her tongue out at Fenrir. "Can't get me now!"

Fenrir tilted his head. Steve looked back at her. "I don't know Willow, Fenrir's pretty strong..."

She stared at him. "Well shoot," and she took off at a run across the lawn. Fenrir loped after her, enjoying chasing her around the lawn as she hollered and Steve watched from next to a snickering Tony.

"Run faster Will, you're outta shape!" Tony hooted, and Willow ran towards him, literally climbing onto Steve's shoulders.

"Round _is_ a shape!" she retorted indignantly, clutching Steve. "Steve, save me," she whimpered as Fenrir came up, tongue lolling.

"I was thinking more muscly-shaped," Tony observed, lips pursing.

"Willow, how exactly am I supposed to save you when he's as easily as strong as me?" Steve asked dryly, holding her legs as she sat on his shoulders.

"I dunno." She shrugged.

"Well that was quite a whoop and holler you let out. Jean isn't gonna be happy," a new voice spoke up, and Steve and Tony looked around while Willow and Fenrir looked up into the branches of the tree they were under.

"Aww, but Jean's such a prissy stick in the mud!" Willow complained, while Wolverine dropped down beside them.

"Your sister seems to be cut out of the same paper as you, Tony," he remarked, while Tony turned to him casually.

"You mean Iron. Dude come on, Iron Man?" Tony complained. Steve and Fenrir glanced at Willow.

"Logan, aka Wolverine," she introduced briefly, and Logan shook hands with Steve.

"Who's this?" Logan asked, turning to Fenrir, who was sniffing.

"Fenrir, my friend," Willow answered, then leaned on top of Steve's head.

"Mutant?" Logan queried, sniffing the air for a moment with a queer look in Willow's direction.

"No," Fenrir answered for himself.

"Impressive," Logan said, then sauntered towards the mansion. "Run from Jean while you can."

"Can we take his advice?" Willow begged, tugging at Steve's shirt.

"Yes," Tony agreed, marching across the lawn towards the jet. "Got what you came for, Airhead?"

"Hey! I'm smart too I'll have you know!" Willow protested as Steve followed.

"Yeah yeah, you're the DreamCatcher, so you're a Dreamer and Airheaded most of the time," Tony waved it off.

"I hate his nicknames. So Capsicle, how'd you like it?" Willow looked down.

"It was nice. I got to see the art classes. Also nice to have a run," Steve answered honestly, setting her down on the bench.

"Good." She stood up and wandered toward the front.

"You didn't answer my question," Tony called her out as she flopped in shotgun.

"I did," she answered briefly. "And I have a favor to ask."

"And that doesn't sound suspicious at all." Tony peered at her over his sunglasses.

"Relax. It's just someone at work that I'd like if you'd make time to meet. Please?" she begged, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Three good reasons," he demanded, leaning back in his chair and smirking at her.

Willow grinned. "One, he's a genius with a high IQ; two, he's my assistant; and three, I hit the jackpot. He's a master hacker, big brother~" she sang, sitting back triumphantly and wriggling her eyebrows teasingly.

"Say no more, Bring him in," Tony agreed, then put his feet up on her lap. "Ahhhh. If someone would've told me little sisters were so convenient, I'd have gotten one long ago," he sighed, while Willow curled her lip at his feet.

"Ai! Toto, feet off! I'm not your ottoman!" she whined. "Besides, there's no other little sister who'd put up with you," she grumbled.

"I'm offended," Tony said lazily.

"Have they been doing this since they met?" Steve addressed Fenrir in the back.

"Since I've known her," Fenrir snorted.

"Starks equals Sassmasters, Stevie!" Willow swiveled her head to grin at him cheekily. "You know you love me~"

"Should I answer that?" Steve wondered.

"No," Tony replied, miffed.

Willow smirked as they disembarked the plane and headed in to where Pepper was waiting for them.

"Did you have a good time?" Pepper asked with a warm smile. "I made you guys some organic salad and meatloaf for dinner," she offered, and Willow paused.

"Is that it?" she asked quickly.

"Yes... Do you need something else?" Pep replied, puzzled. Willow began to bolt for the kitchen.

"Steve and Fen eat enough for five people each!" she hollered back. "I'll make something!"

"Wait, Willow it's-" Steve sighed. "Sorry. She... worries about me," he said with a nervous grin.

"As far as I'm concerned, Steve, she has every right to be," Pepper replied with a smile, then wandered towards the kitchen after giving Tony a kiss. "Dinner's on the table in ten, be ready."

"Yes Ma'am," Steve said, then went to clean up.

By the time everyone was at the table, Willow had added a bowl of whole grain easy pasta to the table. They ate, just talking lazily about their day, while Fenrir munched on steak.

"I saw your Facebook by the way. Looks like you've got a fan base already," Pepper remarked, and Willow almost choked on her food.

"Thanks," she half choked, then swallowed with difficulty. "I don't really like keeping up with it. Maybe I should just ask Jarv to do it for me," she grumbled. "Oh, speaking of which, Jaaaaarv?" she called.

 _Yes, Miss Stark?_

"Initiate protocol Golden Retriever for me?" she asked.

 _Of course, Miss._ He replied calmly, and Steve's phone buzzed.

"What, tracking?" Tony sounded amused.

"Partially, but mostly just placing a prerecorded tape on his phone that activates when Steve tries to use Google Maps," she snickered. Steve blinked.

"Oh, you mean when he gets lost," Tony realized, and she nodded.

"Yup. If lost and found, please return to the care of Willow, phone number blah blah," she laughed.

"I'd be offended if I didn't know better," Steve sighed.

After a while, they all retired and went back to their own places: Steve to his flat, Willow and Fenrir to their floor. "You seem restless," Fenrir observed as Willow sat down at the holo-computer, logging into SHIELD.

"I'd almost forgotten about something, and now I need to fix it," she answered hurriedly, tapping into the system and quickly entering mainframe. Level Ten access granted, she immediately began a search, all the while erasing her cyber footsteps. Fenrir peered over her shoulder, watching as she made a search for a certain list.

"The Gifted Index?" Fenrir queried.

"A list of people who have what normal people call 'powers.' In other words, a list of potentially dangerous people that SHIELD keeps an eye on. I agree that many of them could prove to be dangerous, but I don't agree with some of the things that SHIELD does to the people on the index. I need to see the names and profiles. There are a certain few that will come in handy to know later - and besides, you and I are on the index anyway," she explained, and their faces suddenly appeared on the screen. Well, Fenrir's snout anyway.

"How did they get such a good picture of me?" Fenrir asked with a frown.

"Surveillance cameras. Besides, you're a poser. Why do you think I'm always tired at night? I keep moving because I don't want clear pictures of me to end up on too many cameras. I can't help an office of course, but otherwise..." She looked at him pointedly.

"What do you need the names for?" Fenrir asked further.

Willow sighed, rubbing her head. "Sit down, please," she said softly. Fenrir sat at her feet, looking at her expectantly. "I appreciate, Fen, that you haven't asked me to tell you what you know I know," she said.

"I heard what the Queen and Heimdall said," Fenrir said sharply. "I'm not stupid. I told you before, I smell nothing untrustworthy about your intentions," he said simply.

"Then will you trust me still even when the world starts going down a drain? When everything that will happen could be prevented, but I stand back and do nothing?" Willow asked, voice somewhat hard. "Will you still trust me when people die and I don't raise a finger?" she asked quietly.

Fenrir looked at her for a moment. "Do I have a choice?" he finally asked. "There is no one else in the universe who would protect me," he said just as quietly. "I have no where else to go."

Willow placed her head in her hands miserably. "I know, Fen. It just... It isn't fair. All this -" she tapped her temples, "all up here. It eats me. It was all fun and games when it wasn't real, but now there's so much to sort out and I don't know what to do. What should happen? What can be changed? What can - what should- I do? I've got lives in my hands, Fen, and I have an obligation to make a choice what to do or not to do because I live in this world and there's no where else I can go either." She tossed up her hands. "This is why I respect Fury. He makes the wrong calls sometimes, and he can be unnecessarily ruthless, but he still does it, and he does it well. The onlyadvantage I have over him is that I have the cheat sheet. If I didn't, I'd be doing the exact same things as he is." She gestured with her hands almost violently, then leaned back in her chair. "It's enough to drive someone insane."

"I don't pretend to understand, but I do realize that you did something for me. Didn't you. Don't lie," he added quickly, ears pricked. Willow smiled at him weakly.

"Fenrir, I didn't know if you even existed before I met you. I knew according to legend what mighthappen, but that was myth. Then I met you, and-" she shrugged, "I just... Over that year I got to know you, and I knew, I knewI couldn't let that happen to you. Nobody deserved that fate. Not even - not even Hitler would deserve that fate. I don't know what I might have changed, or if I even changed anything. You might have had another advocate anyway, regardless of whether I was there or not. The thing is, Fen, I'm a wild card. I was plonked here by the universe with a knowledge of what might happen withoutmy existence, and knowing what I know? That makes me the variable here. You? I don't know. You're mywild card. And you're not going to be the only one. The more I decide to change, the less I know what's going to happen. I'm not the puppeteer of this story. I'm the protagonist," she elaborated wearily.

Fenrir almost visibly pondered for a long while, then nodded slowly. "I wish I could tell you to tell me all, but we both know that you can't. All I can tell you is to change only what must be changed. Lives will always be lost, no matter what you do. Sometimes, it just has to happen; but you need to try to do everything possible to prevent as much damage. You seem to think that is why you were sent: hold on to that purpose when everything is dark," he said quietly, and Willow hung her head.

"I'm sorry. I can't... do this all properly like I should. But I will try," she mumbled.

"As you should. They are your people," he said, and Willow slammed a fist on the desk.

"No! No, they are not my people! That's the point, Fen! Asgardians, Humans, Jötuns for all I care - I am noneof them!" she hissed, standing up. "Even with the gifted people on the index and the Inhumans; I'm noneof them!" Her hands tore at her hair as she paced the floor. "I don't even knowwhat I am, and I'm not about to go around with the whole 'these are my people' thing. I've already seen what that can make people do. I'm on the side of life. That's it. No groups, no factions, not even a race. Just life," she insisted, then plopped down again.

"I need to sleep," she sighed, running her hands through her hair. "Yeah. I'm gonna go sleep, and from tomorrow I will be making contingency plans for what is to come," she decided with a firm nod.

"Perhaps that is wise. I will shut the system down for you," Fenrir said, and she nodded, hugging him before heading for bed.

"Thanks Fen." She smiled weakly and headed for her room, changing before flopping down and falling asleep. Fenrir was left to sit down in the darkened room and place his head in his hands.

* * *

Frustration. Frustration everywhere - and eyes. Eyes in the dark.

"Who are you?" Willow called out, unsure of where she was. Whose mind was this? The faint sound of a call wafted through her ears, like she was in a cave and someone was nearby. She began a jog, knowing she was in a dream and unafraid. In dreams, things were usually exaggerated, either for the better or worse, but nothing was able to harm her as long as she knew it was a dream. It was easier to control. That didn't mean that what she saw or experienced wasn't horrifying, though. Loki's dreams were sometimes unthinkable.

The yelling was closer. "Yinsen! No, stick to the plan!"

Gunshots rang out, and Willow had to shield her eyes as a bright light filled the cavern just as she realized with a sickening jolt whose mind she was really in. Then a moment later there was something warm splattering her clothes, and she looked down to see red and entrails. Willow closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, knowing that it was too late anyway to feel sick. She'd seen worse in Loki's terrors. Asgardians could suffer more. At least the body in front of her was dead.

She broke into a sprint, following a trail of bodies and finally seeing a large hulking mass of squeaking metal in front of her. "Tony!" she yelled, and the metal paused just in front of the blocked entrance to the caverns. "Tony, please-"

"No, Willow, get back-!" Tony actually addressed her, she realized with shock, and then, from experience, also realized that he obviously dreamed about her more than he might care to admit. His voice had no surprise, merely a desperate sort of note in it, like he knew what was about to happen.

Willow felt the breath knocked out of her lungs as something pinned her to the ground. " _Willow_!" Tony howled with anguish, finally turning completely around just in time to see Willow scowl as something went right through her back. There was no pain. She didn't believe in Tony's nightmares, whatever they could conjure up. They had no power over her.

With a swift and strong twist, Willow turned around and was admittedly startled to be looking up into the jaws and multitude of eyes of a gigantic spider. Arachnophobia, Tony? She wondered. The pinchers came down again, but Willow just let them move right through her and instead heaved with her legs, twisting them free and kicking up into the abdomen of the huge spider. She didn't want to add this thing to her collection. No thanks, she'd pass. With a hiss, the spider backed off, hobbling in pain.

Willow bent to scoop a dropped machine gun from the ground, sending a volley into the thing's eyes. It made a rather dramatic death, she thought, curling up its legs and wheeking in pain before going quiet with a little gurgle.

Willow dropped the gun, about to turn to Tony, but thenfelt something land next to her feet. She looked down to see a hand grenade next to her, and rolled her eyes. "Tony, stop trying to kill me!" she yelled, stooping to pick up the grenade and hurriedly throw it back where it came from. It exploded harmlessly in the air, going out with a little fizzle.

"Tony, it's _just a dream_!" she all but shrieked, just as his hand repulser beams were hot. A flash of light, and everything went black.

Willow groaned, sitting up and rubbing her head. The five in her head were antsy, wanting to be taken out for a run, especially after the dream-hop.

 _Excuse me, Miss Stark, but I believe Sir is running towards your room._ Jarvis spoke up, a hint of confusion in his British clip.

Her door flew open a minute later, and a wild-eyed, disheveled Tony stood at her door, panting. Willow blinked, then scooted up and patted the empty side of the bed.

"Hiya. So, what's up with the killing me part? It's not like I was actually there," she said, and Tony stared at her for another minute before coming to flop down on her bed.

"So that's what you can do," he remarked in a seemingly casual voice, but Willow glanced at him.

"Yes. More than just dream-hopping, but basically yeah. It's weird." She shrugged. There was a slightly awkward silence.

"So you actually dream about me," Willow said, hesitantly reaching out to touch Tony's scruffy hair. He didn't move, just staring up at the ceiling.

"Sometimes," was all he said, and she began to comb through his hair. It was soft. More than she had thought it would be.

"Mostly nightmares though, huh. I don't know if I should be concerned or touched," she half joked, a crooked smile appearing on her face. Tony snorted, but still didn't move.

"Probably neither," he brushed it off gruffly.

"Hey. I know you usually look for comfort in a woman, but if you need someone who's not a gold digger, then come to my flat. Just plop yourself wherever, even if it's on me, and just talk. Anything. Everything. Just to be around someone," she suggested. "I annoy Fen doing that," she snickered slightly.

"I bet you do," Tony said casually, but his muscles relaxed. Willow scooted closer, playing with his hair more.

"Unfair. You get nice soft hair and I don't," she sulked. "I wonder what Steve's hair feels like... Nah, it's probably like silk," she snickered. "Where do you get your hair done anyway? Most of the time it looks like you just crawled out of bed, not styled," she ribbed.

"Hey! My hair looks magnificent, I'll have you know," Tony exclaimed, shooting her a dirty look that had no fire in it. She grinned evilly.

"Reaaaally? You suuuure 'bout that?" she teased.

"Shut up, my hair is fine," he grumbled, rolling over and curling up.

"Look Jarv, now he's a little offended porcupine!" she howled, and Fenrir walked in to find an indignant Tony chasing a roaring girl around the room.

"Parkour!" she yelped, sliding through Fenrir's legs and bolting through the kitchen. Fenrir crossed his arms.

"What did you do," he deadpanned. Tony huffed.

"You mean what did _she_ do," he accused, crossing his own arms. Fenrir looked down at him loftily for a few moments.

"She's probably in the kitchen," he said, then calmly sauntered off towards the living room.

Tony grinned. There was a shriek from the kitchen. Chaos ensued.

Fenrir sat on the couch, a satisfied look on his face. It had been a while since he had helped someone to prank her.


	16. Work of all Sorts

_Ayyo~! Kiya here again, with more apologies for being delayed. I worked an insane amount in the past two weeks so I've been beat every time I think about updating. Anyway, I'm here now!_

 _Thank you for all the reviews, favorites, and followers! I hope you're enjoying and will continue to enjoy. Now, without any more delay, please,_

 _Read!_

 _Enjoy!_

 _Review!_

* * *

Chapter 14

"Rhee, Tony Stark; bro, Rhee," Willow introduced. "My friend from HQ that I told you about, also my assistant," she explained further, and the two shook hands. Rhee looked just the tiniest bit flustered, which Willow took as a point for herself. Emotion out of the guy! Amazing.

"Nice to meetcha. So, my sister says you do hacking. Mind showing me what you got? Y'know, try to hack into my system, see where the holes are," Tony rattled on, throwing an arm around Rhee and leading him away. Willow nodded at his glance and calmly turned away, walking towards her own flat. She had work to do.

She logged in and began a search, using Jarvis again to cover up her cyber footprints. He really was such a help, she told herself in satisfaction, then promptly began to go through information. Her head throbbed, and she hissed through her teeth in annoyance.

"Alright, just give me a while okay? I promise I'll take y'all out tonight. Just stop distracting me please," she begged, and they subsided at her promise.

It was another hour before she wrapped up her work, retreating from the system carefully and signing off. With a sigh, she cracked her knuckles and stretched, yawning slightly.

 _Miss Stark, Mister Rhee has asked for you._ Jarvis informed her calmly. She smiled.

"First of all Jarv, it's Willow, and secondly tell him I'll be there," she replied, heaving herself up.

 _I'm sorry Miss, but my protocol-_

"Oh fine Jarv, would it work if I ordered you to call me Willow?" she asked in exasperation, heading for the elevator. Fenrir trotted alongside, the size of a husky.

 _Yes, Miss, it would._ But his voice was faintly uncomfortable.

"Jarvis, you call me whatever makes you comfortable," she said softly as the elevator went up.

 _Thank you, Miss._ He answered relievedly. Jarvis had feelings. Accordingly, Willow would treat him as a person.

She finally made it to the floor and the door opened to show Rhee shaking hands with her brother. "Hey guys. Ready?" she asked with a smile.

"Yes," Rhee answered simply, stepping into the lift.

"And where are you going?" Tony asked her, leaning against the wall.

"Sorry bro, but I have to get back to work." She smiled slightly. "Daily grind alleviates for no one." She winked. "I'll be back tonight. And I'll also have a surprise for you, y'know... Ifyou happen to be interested," she said casually with a shrug.

"You _bet_. Nice seeing you Rhee, come again sometime," he said, and Rhee nodded.

"Sure. Thank you," he said simply. There was no gushing, no formality. It was a reason Willow had known that Tony would like Rhee.

"See ya bro. Be good." She waved and the door closed. "So," she prodded, while they glided down to the first floor.

"He is every bit the genius they say he is. Thanks for the opportunity," he replied, adjusting his glasses slightly.

"Welcome. Tony liked you," she said, looking back towards the door while fondling Fenrir's ears. Rhee didn't say anything, and they rode back to the Triskelion in comfortable silence.

Willow parted with Rhee at her office, going instead to Coulson's office. He looked up as she entered. "Spare a mo for me?" she asked calmly.

"Sure," he invited, pointing briefly to a chair while finishing a document. She sat down, Fenrir standing by the door with his eyes drooped but ears up. Then Phil looked back up and she nodded.

"Won't take me long, I know how busy you are. Actually I was just asking if I could go take a visit to the Academy," she requested. Coulson looked somewhat interested.

"Why the Academy?" he questioned. She smirked.

"Curiosity, for one thing, but also because I really feel a need to go see what it's like in the Academy. The people. I want to see it," she said, looking at him.

Phil just looked at her, but she was being honest. She had too much respect for him to ever flat out lie to him. "Alright," he finally said. "You technically don't even have to ask me, but go ahead," he sighed.

She stood and walked to the door. "Sir, I respect you too much not to ask for your permission. You are the only one who will ever be able to make me stand down," she replied quietly, then left with Fenrir. She wasted no time in getting a plane to take her to the Academy directly. Fenrir went with her, and she took out her Stark phone to make a private, untraceable call. She dialed a number and heard someone pick up after a few rings.

"Hey kid," Clint's voice said, sounding a little lazy, though she wasn't fooled.

"Have a mo, or are you on nest duty?" she asked dryly.

"Shut up," he sighed. "Talk." There was the sound of movement as he made himself comfortable.

"Anything happening?" she asked casually, looking out the window of the plane.

"I should really be worried about that question, but no," Clint stated somewhat suspiciously, and Willow laughed softly.

"Fine, be that way," she retorted. "But I'm glad. How's the Doc?" she asked.

"He's fine, excited to be working on the project. Heard anything from Nat?" he queried.

"No," she replied. "I'll try to get ahold of her, but I'm pretty sure I saw a file on Coulson's desk about some black ops thing with her name scrawled on it," she said, studying her nails.

"Huh. Probably," he agreed. "So, what're you doing with yourself?"

"Heading over to the Academy for a tour," she chuckled slightly. "Heard too much about it to stay away." She glanced out the window.

"It, or they?" Clint grunted.

"You caught me. Trust me though, I have my reasons," she said dryly.

"That's not what I was thinking about, but whatever. Anyway, looks like there might be something going on. Probably nothing, but I'll check it out," he remarked, and Willow bit her lip.

"Sure. Love ya, DaddyHawk," she said, and heard a chuckle.

"You too kid." He hung up, and Willow growled, shoving the phone in her pocket.

She still needed to do a few more things, and she was running out of time. She could practically count on one hand how many days were left until the movie started, and though she knew she'd have to wing it, she wanted to accomplish a few things first. And if she had miscalculated? Hah. Things just went downhill.

They arrived at the Academy of Science and Technology, and Willow disembarked with Fenrir trotting at her side. Her badge was easily checked in at the desk, though she did get some double takes for her eighteen-year-old looks that contrasted with her rank. It felt almost odd to her to see the plaques in the main hallway of the science academy building, going to run her fingers over them. Her fingers paused over the name of James Buchanan Barnes, and her eyes hardened. A slight shudder went down her spine as she thought about Hydra, within SHIELD even now, but she just shook herself off and went back to her resolutions, turning to crisply make her way to meet the head of the academy, Agent Weaver.

The woman wore a friendly smile as she shook Willow's hand in the main office. "A pleasure, Agent Freya. What can I do for you?"

Willow had to admire Weaver's calmness in the face of a level ten agent. "Nothing big, I hope, Agent Weaver," she replied with an equal smile. "Just hoping to meet your students. I'd actually like to pick out a few to personally evaluate," she didn't elaborate further, not really needing to and making it clear that Weaver didn't need to know either.

"Of course. Shall I give you a list?" She went to a cabinet file.

"Please." Willow took the file and began flipping through, occasionally picking out a few different profiles and setting them aside. "If you don't mind, I'm interested in these," she said, pushing the papers over. Weaver checked them and nodded.

"I'll call them in right away," she replied crisply, then made a call to a few offices. Willow waited patiently, in no hurry for the moment and making plan after plan and alternately fixing and discarding them. This had to be done right, or else she was definitely done for, along with a lot of other people.

"They're on their way, Agent Freya," Weaver informed her, and she nodded.

"Thank you," she replied just as calmly. She wondered if her name was too obvious, then brushed it aside. It's not like it would really matter after the events upcoming anyway. She looked up when the students began to come in. Willow just began to talk to them easily, asking a few questions and testing some of their knowledge. She was a Stark, after all, and even if her math wasn't okay her concepts were fine. After a while, it was finally narrowed down to the last two.

"Fitz and Simmons usually like to work together," Weaver said.

"Well then by all means, please send them in together," Willow replied with a slightly intrigued smile, trying to calm her heart. Fitz and Simmons! Together! She could _talk_ with them!

The two came in, looking nervous, and sat down. Willow appreciated that they looked almost exactly as she remembered them, except - more innocent. "Hello. My name is Willow Freya. And you must be Fitz and Simmons." She nodded to them respectively with an easy smile.

"Hello. It's an honor to meet you," Simmons tried, her British accent slightly nervous.

"My name's Leopold Fitz and it's an honor to meet you. Are you really a mutant?" Fitz blurted in his thick Scottish brogue, then looked like he wanted to sink into the ground. Jemma looked horrified while Willow burst into laughter.

"Oh Fitz, your accent is absolutely adorable!" She couldn't help but bend over laughing. He turned even more red than before, if that was possible. Then she straightened, grinning at them. "Yes, I am really a mutant," she answered, winking at them. "Hopefully one day you'll get to see it." A smile tilted her lips slightly.

Jemma and Fitz glanced at each other. "We hope to see that day, Agent Freya," Jemma answered diplomatically.

"Now, mind answering for me a few questions?" Willow asked, and they proceeded to have a short conversation. Willow was almost disappointed when the five minutes were over, slowly getting up to her feet to shake their hands. "A pleasure to meet the two star students of the Science Academy," she said warmly.

"Thank you," they replied genuinely.

"Have a great day," she dismissed kindly, then turned back to Agent Weaver, who came in after the other two left. "I hope you are aware that those two might get snatched up rather readily by ops teams," she remarked, shuffling through the papers again.

"Well, they are the best and brightest," Weaver sighed resignedly. Willow just hummed.

"This has been most illuminating. Thank you very much for your help, Agent Weaver," she finally declared, standing up. Weaver shook her hand, richly dark skin glistening in the lights of the office. A striking woman in the way she carried herself.

"Glad to be of service, Agent Freya," she answered simply, and Willow took her leave to head over to the Operations Academy building.

She arrived to find the compound under heavy security and a lot of muscle. She rolled her eyes slightly at all the brawn, signing into the compound easily. The officer at the desk actually looked at her with some degree of incredulity. "It is recommended to go in with security-"

"I'm my own security, officer, thank you. I'm an active field agent," Willow cut him off agreeably, smiling as she breezed through the doors into the facility. The guard didn't follow after her, and she began to make her way to the main office. She got a lot of looks from the men and women alike, but was more amused than anything. After all, she was a rather young girl dressed in a classic Triskelion uniform and breezing around almost nonchalantly inside the most aggressive place in SHIELD.

She made it to the office and went through a cabinet of files filled with names of the different recruits, male and female. She hurriedly flipped through the files, looking through both graduated and currently enrolled students. She found the several names she was looking for, then after filing a report through one of the computers, quietly placed a tiny hacker in the shape of a screw head on the main computer. Her phone vibrated slightly in her pocket, letting her know that the hack had started, then began to head through the halls again. She wasn't surprised when a group of guys who looked like they were ready to graduate - and in fact were, she remembered from her scanning - approached her.

They made it clear they wanted to talk, and she paused. "Hello gentlemen, what can I do for you?" she asked calmly, though admittedly she was a bit antsy. She had an appointment with Fury the next day (she had no idea what he wanted and was nervous), and she was running out of time to visit the Hub today in her last few hours on duty. Plus, she needed to check up on Nat.

"Yeah, sorry to bother you, but have you seen Agent Jay anywhere?" one asked.

"No, sorry, but he's probably in the office down the hall to your left," she answered, well aware of the layout of the building thanks to the map she had checked.

"Thanks," he said, and headed down said hall.

"Don't remember Agents being recruited so young," one remarked, looking at her somewhat suspiciously.

Willow calmly took out her badge and let them get a look, eyebrow ticking. "If you'll _excuse_ me, gentlemen, I'm on a schedule," she said politely but with some annoyance, pocketing the badge and walking off down the hall again. Yes, it was an inherent part of them to be suspicious, but good grief.

She exited, even more disgruntled by the fact that the officer who had checked her in looked genuinely surprised to see her unharmed, and made her way to the plane again to catch a ride to the Hub. She made it in a matter of half an hour and finally got to the Hub, this time hurrying to complete her duties within the hour.

The hacker was placed and she got the information she needed, then stopped by the normal office where paperwork was done. She walked through slowly but carefully, glancing at the different people. She finally noticed the particular agent she was looking for, pausing slightly. The agent looked up and met her eyes, and Willow nodded respectfully once before heading off again. Her day was done.

"So, you're telling me that Nat went to Russia _again_ for a black ops?"

"Yes DaddyHawk, cool yourself. You're on a mission too," Willow said dryly, looking out the window of the car driving her to Stark Tower.

"But that isn't fair, Willow! She gets to have all the fun," his raspy voice sounded sulky.

"Please," she sighed. "Anyway, that's all I've got, and you know that nothing can be wrung from BigC," she said, rolling her eyes to heaven. Or okay, the roof of the car. The car stopped, and she nodded at Happy as she got out and walked into the Tower, taking the red and gold elevator.

"... Fine, point taken. Thanks for the debatable help," Clint replied, ribbing her.

"Shut it," she retorted, but knew he could hear the smile in her voice. Fenrir, who had decided not to join her at the Hub or Academy but stick with Rhee instead, trotted into the top floor ahead of her. "Anyway, see you later, Mister Hawkeye," she said, and he chuckled before they hung up and Tony came almost literally bounding around the corner.

"Little sis! You're home!" he exclaimed. "I've been waiting!"

"And making yourself unhelpful to Sister dear I'm sure," she sighed, setting her bag down. "And stop with the niceties, I know you just want that surprise, Toto," she scoffed, and he gave her a hurt look. Funny how well he could pull off the puppy look, even with his facial hair. It was ridiculous.

"C'mon, I waited for you all day!" he whined, following after her. "And I did so make myself useful, I worked with Dum-E and Butterfingers to make a new toaster for your flat. It's an automated one with wheels and its own interface. It can follow you around and everything! I named her -" he paused dramatically as they entered Willow's flat, "Cheesy," he proclaimed, just as a toaster rolled up very quickly to Willow, letting out a cute chittering.

Willow stared down at it while Fenrir morphed and walked into the kitchen, chuckling. "Are. You. Kidding. Me," she finally said, turning on Tony with a severe look. He blinked. "What were you _thinking_!? Naming her _Cheesy_ of all things!? You're evil!" she exclaimed, then bent to pet the toaster. "Naw, I'll call ya somethin' else sweetheart," she comforted it, walking into the kitchen. It - she - rolled after.

"That's all? And it's a fine name, I'll have you know! You're definitely my sister," he finally decided, following after her.

"Please. We both know I'm your sister," she snorted. "Now then. Thanks for Sweetheart - that's her name now, don't you dare protest - and relax, I'm getting to that surprise. I can see you internally screaming," she deadpanned, setting Sweetheart on the counter. "I am so going to write that name on your side in fancy calligraphy," she told the little toaster.

"Really? Thank you! It's so nice to be alive and I promise to make really good toast and thanks for the name it's really nice I think I really like it no I love it!" Sweetheart squealed, rolling around in circles. Willow groaned and put her head on the counter.

"Anthony. Edward. Stark. Did you just make an entirely new AI just for my toaster!?" she cried, glaring at the sheepish looking Tony.

"Hey look, I was bored and the genius was running so I may have made a little sassy girl toaster for you. At least she'll make you good toast," he defended himself while Willow scoffed and absently petted the toaster before going to quickly change clothes.

"Long day?" Tony whispered to Fenrir, who nodded as he bit into a raw steak.

"Long day," he confirmed. "She'll need to give you that surprise, too," he added cryptically.

"Somehow that makes me nervous," Tony remarked as Willow came back in wearing a pair of spandex shorts and t-shirt with her hair up in a ponytail. She grabbed a bottle of water for herself, then smiled at Tony.

"Shall we go down to the basement?" she offered. "Oh, and I'll be back soon, Sweetheart," she told the toaster warmly, heading for the elevator. Tony whooped and bounded in front of her, while Fenrir sauntered after, holding her water bottle while she wrapped her hands with rags. Willow walked into the door of the basement after Tony, tightening the rags with her teeth. There was a heavily fortified gym in the basement, with all the necessary equipment and everything. Even a boxing ring.

"So, show me." Tony was rubbing his hands. "What do you do." His eyes sparkled.

"Calm down, Toto. I'm trying," she said dryly, then sat down on the gym mat and closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. She focused on the guard dogs of her mind, mental fingers brushing over them carefully. They immediately responded to her, rearing up and eager to be out. She calmed them and selected one first, taking out the smallest she had - the snake from her first dream-hop. She heard Tony let out a 'whoa.'

"Don't touch it, and be careful. Its venom can melt flesh with ease," she said rather nonchalantly, then made sure said dangers were neutralized and carefully under her control before taking out the second. This time she opened her eyes.

The large black mass had pinprick eyes, black and beady but somehow clearly distinguishable from the rest of its dark mass. It was the one from Bucky's dreams: the concept of stalking horror.

"What does that do?" Tony asked interestedly, walking around it before stepping back as it took off to spread itself out.

"It's a miasma of paralyzing fear. You're not feeling it because I'm neutralizing its effect," she replied, then carefully began to pull out the third. Thanks to her practice she could pull out four at a time, but she was working on five without her mind potentially breaking. It was a strain on her mind to successfully control all five at the same time, as well as be aware of her surroundings. She didn't trust herself to be able to use all five at the same time in a battle, though. She could easily switch, but not all at once.

"Whoa." Tony drew attention to the third, which was a dragon the size of his arm. "Can it talk?" he asked.

"No. He's one of the few remaining descendants of Nídhöggr, one of the three major dragons, of whom only he is still alive at this point. He can't talk, but he sure can breathe fire," she replied with a shrug, and had him snort a little plume to prove it. He perched on her arm, scales a dull blue which contrasted with his ice blue eyes.

"I really want data on that," Tony said, and Willow curled her lip.

"No."

"Look, I didn't mean tissue samples or blood, I meant temperature readings! How hot does that flame even get!?" he protested.

"Maybe," she replied cryptically, then pulled out the fourth with some effort but still less easily then before. It was a long, winding sea serpent, bigger than the first one. And this one didn't have venom either, just the ability to act like a giant anaconda. Even though it worked a bit slowly, its scales were impenetrable. It had been quite an a effort to absorb that one into her mind, and the addition of the fifth had made her sick with the effort.

"Okay, wow. How do you even control these things?" Tony marveled, touching the sea serpent.

"His name is Jörmungandr, after my... after the legendary one. They're definitely not the same though." She nodded at the serpent, a pale green color and coiled around the room. "I don't necessarily control every part of them. They're all sentient to a certain degree, but I do have reins, if you wanna think of it that way," she answered the question, then took in a deep breath.

"The fifth is going to be a bit harder. I can let out and control these four without too much effort, but five leaves me no room to pay much attention to my surroundings. I need to work on it. Besides the fact that each one of them takes up a huge chunk of my mind. My mind can expand to hold as many as I want, but I want to be picky about it and only choose to absorb the ones I really want and need. It's a strain to actually deal with and rein in them all," she explained, then slowly began to pull out the fifth.

It was an effort. She gritted her teeth and let out a grunt of pain, but pushed through, knowing she would have to stretch a little further.

"C'mon sis, careful. It's materializing," Tony half-encouraged half-warned, and she let out another groan of effort. She knew she was reaching the limit when she felt the last of its presence slip through. Her eyes opened slowly, and she could almost hear the muscles in her mind creaking.

"I'm not going to be able to hold it for long," she gritted out, but was satisfied to see that the last was indeed functional and under her control, though she wasn't really able to concentrate on much else. Instead, she slowly tucked away the first four, leaving only the fifth. She breathed, wiping away sweat and relaxing.

"Now that? That's awesome," Tony said, obviously delighted. "You okay?" he added, and Willow grinned weakly.

"I'm going to pay for that, but yeah. I'm okay, thanks," she replied, patting the creature.

"Lemme take a guess - it's a Kelpie," Tony said, holding a finger up before gingerly patting the horse. The glossy black hair rippled over powerful muscles.

"More than just a Kelpie, but you've got the basics. This one is a little exaggerated and enhanced, meant to frighten more than anything." She patted the velvet nose as it snuffled and lipped her fingers.

"Talk about it. The whole black hair and orange eyes isn't helping. Does it have a name?" Tony asked, walking around it.

"It is a he, and his name is Dirhalm," she replied, and let him trot around.

"I'm not horse expert, but he looks really fine," Tony admired, crossing his arms. "Can I borrow him?"

"Not on your life," she snorted.

"Hey, it was worth a shot." He held up his hands.

Willow absorbed the Kelpie again before going to a punching bag, beginning to punch methodically, ingraining muscle memory into her mind. She wasn't great at physical combat, but she did know how to punch in the right spots and wanted the punches to be reflexive. It might save her one day. Tony wandered around the room, making notes on things he wanted to improve.

"Do you think I should make the treadmill run faster? Or wait, maybe I could hook it up to the Internet, and whoever runs gets faster internet the faster they run!" he theorized, and Fenrir came to hold the punching bag.

"Something is bothering you more than usual," he said quietly, not moving an inch as Willow punched the bag hard, her knuckles cracking.

"Yes. Time is everything and I have none of it to make important decisions," she muttered back, frustration coloring her movements.

"Well you can't do everything."

"I'm not planning to do everything, just most of it," she snorted back bitterly, giving her all into the punches. "Anyway, tell me more about my niece. Your sister," she urged, still punching away.

"Well, she's kind of like you, but with more morbid humor. She also hates suitors," he replied, eyeing her carefully but not saying anything about her obviously troubled mental state. She appreciated his careful watch, though. If anything, she could trust Fenrir to make the right decision if she ever got out of hand.

"Oh?" she grunted, landing a solid punch that made her arms ache but sent a pulse of satisfaction through her. Fenrir swayed easily.

"Definitely. She also greatly dislikes multiple visits through the front door, though she does occasionally bring visitors for a little while. She took me down there once, just to chat. Scared me, though," he scoffed, and Willow snorted as she wound down and finally stepped back to take a swig of water.

"Can't blame you. Or her though. Must be tiring seeing dead people all the time," she remarked, wiping her face as Tony sauntered up.

"Done?" he asked with a smirk. "Whose face?"

"Oh, maybe yours. Or maybe it's Fury's, it got a bit muddled," she said dryly. Tony looked offended. "Just kidding, Toto, relax," she snickered. Fenrir prowled towards the elevator.

"You need a shower," he declared.

"Rude!"

"Tell it to her," Tony jeered with relish, grinning at her unrepentantly as she glared.

"Oh shut it, the both of you," she said in disgust, following after Fen while unwrapping the bandages. A few splotches of blood lingered on the once-white rags.

* * *

She was falling. Faster, through something cold and warm at the same time. Strangely, though, she wasn't panicking. There was no need to panic, her mind told her vaguely. She was just going on a visit, there was no need to panic. Fuzzily, she registered that she couldn't open her eyes, but didn't feel too concerned. Of course, the velocity at which she was probably falling meant that her eyes were being pressured not to open anyway -

There was a sudden, sickening cracking sound, and she let loose a scream as pain exploded in her chest, so intense that she felt like throwing up. Her eyes popped open as she screamed, then she abruptly shut her mouth and tried to stop the noise as every breath hurt her.

"Oh, I am _so_ sorry. Really, I truly am. It's been so long since I've had a live being visit that I must have miscalculated the landing speed. Usually souls never get hurt, so... Here, let me help. My fault anyway," a smooth and feminine voice said, and Willow managed to pick out a face amidst the pain. The skin was pale, the eyes a familiar green and the hair dark. But the contours were more edged and feminine than Loki's.

A hand landed on her chest, and the pain left. Sucking in a breath, Willow shook her head as her vision focused. It was dark, she realized belatedly. That didn't help her poor vision. Then the feminine hands, rather cold she reflected, were helping her up.

"My sincere apologies, I really did not intend for you to get hurt. A terrible gesture of me, especially considering that you're my - Aunt, isn't it?" the voice went on, and Willow registered that she felt comfortable around the woman. Her voice was soothing. Actually rather seductive in a natural way, and on a deep level that rebounded within her.

Then the statement registered. "Hela!" she yelled, then promptly winced as she accidentally whacked her head against something. "Sorry, that was my turn to be rude," she mumbled, then finally managed to focus. "Okay yeah, you look like big bro- Uhm, yeah, Big Brother Loki... Look, I honestly meant to ask if that's okay with you, but it's not like I could kill myself and come ask. But anyway, nice to meet you and I agree with your brother that you need company more often," she said bluntly, holding out her hand. "Or would you rather use the Asgardian formalities?"

The goddess - or rather, ruler of Niflheim - threw back her head had laughed, shaking her hand firmly. Her touch was deathly cold, but there was undeniable life in her gaze that left Willow feeling shocked by the mingled fire and ice that pulsed through her veins at the touch.

"Okay wow, I think I'm in danger of getting addicted to that feeling," she commented, shaking her hand. She wasn't quite sure what to think of the woman in front of her, knowing that it was her adoptive niece. And apparently the one that Thanatos wanted to court. Well, that was awkward. She didn't necessarily relish the idea of being Thanatos' in-law. Yuck.

"Well you already are to some extent," Hela replied causally, waving it off and heading down a hallway. Willow glanced at the guards that waited for her to move before walking after the graceful and deadly woman. "After all, you're an adrenaline junkie, and you've brushed my hand a couple times. Anyway - I wanted to meet you, so I took a chance. Something tells me that my work load is going to exponentially increase sometime soon," she remarked with a loud sigh.

"No offense, but you seem to like slang," Willow noticed.

Hela laughed. "Don't tell the Aesir, they'd freak. I don't talk like that around them, but hey, I see a lot of humans down here. It's fascinating to use their language and idioms," she replied, just as they arrived in another wing.

"Oh, so that's why Roman centurions are behind me in full gear," Willow said dryly.

"Someone knows their history. It's the helmets," Hela said with a smirk that was inherited from Loki.

"Yep, okay, you're right. They do like... roosters." Willow had to stifle her snickers. "Anyway, despite the whole breaking my ribs with that landing thing, I have to admit feeling a little nervous. I mean, you're Hela," she finally admitted.

Hela stopped in front of a grate that looked weirdly like a cage, smiling at Willow. "Oh, well, that's good. Respect is appreciated, but you don't grovel either. I like that," she replied rather morbidly, but in a light tone. "But you don't have to worry. I know already what you've done for my father and brother, and I'm on Fenrir's side on this. Besides, I also know that Heimdall trusts you, because he helped you. Plus, I know my father isn't dead, obviously, and Heimdall can't see him. But he did mention that you seem to know some... important things," she remarked, circling Willow.

Willow just stood there calmly. "Relief for me." She shrugged. "Glad to have your approval, though I would have loved them regardless. And if you're testing me, I happen to know that Heimdall wouldn't tell you unless he trusts you. He doesn't have the magic for nothing," she shot back, a small smile on her face though her heart was pounding.

"You'd never make it past a lie detector," Hela laughed, coming to a stop in front of her. "I definitely like you." She smirked.

"Again, thanks. I think it's reciprocated. But um, I'm not talking to a human," she pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

"Good point. I think you'll do well. But anyway -" Hela waved her hand airily. "I called you to give you a gift. You know, a chance to make a bargain."

"A gift, or a bargain? There's a huge difference." Willow's eyebrows shot up.

"Good catch. My catch is that in exchange for the gift, I get a favor. Cashed in any time and for anything," Hela leaned against the bars of the cage with a lazy smile, looking at Willow through half-lidded eyes.

Willow surveyed the lithe figure of the cat-like woman carefully, weighing options. On one hand, she wasn't sure if she could really make that bargain in good conscience. That "favor" would obviously be in terms of a life or lives, and Willow didn't have the power to grant that. Or if not the power, then definitely not the conscience. Life to her was sacred, as she'd told Professor X. On the other hand, she thought keenly, looking at the dark dress and gold jewelry that adorned the ruler of the dead, Willow knew that her purpose in the universe superseded anything and anyone else.

"You sure you want to make that bargain? Seems like a win-win for me," she finally said in a neutral, relaxed voice.

"Are you sure?" Hela raised an eyebrow.

"You're the one boxing yourself in a corner. Making a bargain with me isn't simple, since I don't really have control over what you can or can't have. If you try to use me as a bargaining chip with the universe, then I'm going to end up as the catalyst, not the other end of power. You bargain for the wrong life, and that'll be on you, not me, since you'll be throwing the universe out of whack. Sure you can make that bargain?" Willow laid down the fine print clearly and confidently.

Hela laughed again, but this time it was delighted. "I knew father chose you for a reason. He wouldn't accept less," she said with a pleased smile. "Relax, I know what I want, and I know my own limits. Why else has the universe gone just fine so far?" She winked.

Willow felt like she'd dodged a bullet. "Good to know I took the right stand on that one," she said dryly. "But seriously, why me?"

"Because as you said, you're the catalyst. My father was always drawn to power, but in a natural sense because of his strong magic. He may be Silvertongue, but I know that you know he's not a heartless monster," and her voice became disgusted.

"Well Jötuns aren't mindless evil beasts, if that's what you're saying. Just different, and misunderstood," Willow filled in agreeably.

"Thank you. They actually have a good sense of humor, believe it or not. Anyway, that's beyond the point. You'd actually be doing me a smaller favor to take this gift off my hands. I can't run him properly and he's becoming a nuisance more than a proper guard dog. He's trained too, if it makes it any more appealing. Though, you'll have to gain his trust first," Hela offered, standing straight up again fluidly and motioning to the cage.

Willow raised an eyebrow but dutifully stepped forward, up to the cage bars and looking inside. A low growl issued from one of the corners, and red eyes gleamed at her menacingly. White fangs dripping with something green showed, and Willow had to admit that she was rattled.

"He has that form, but his normal form is actually rather attractive, I promise," Hela said with amusement.

The hulking, pitch black mass stalked forwards, still snarling. But Willow clutched the bars, peering forwards to catch a glimpse. "Whoa. Wait, is that a Helhound? You're actually giving me a _Helhound_?" she asked, completely astounded.

"Not just any Helhound, his name is Cerberus," Hela replied in satisfaction.

Willow gaped at the huge hound. "Oh. My. Gosh. Look at him! He's... Whoa. Hey Cerberus," she gasped, reaching through the bars trustingly. Probably foolishly. The hound paused and stared at her. "Aren't you magnificent?" she breathed. The hound tilted his head, red eyes slowly melting into brown and the dark miasma melting away to reveal a normal-looking (if much larger) hound that was the same shade of a brownie with lighter splotches on his fur. Willow laughed. "So he _is_ spotted! AWWW, he's adorable! His name should be Brownie," she laughed herself silly. "That's definitely gonna be his code name," she managed, then grinned at the hound.

"Hey. Think you can like me?" she asked. "Can I go in?" she turned to Hela, who waved her hand invitingly as the door unlatched. She took in a breath and stepped in. Almost immediately, Cerberus leaped forwards and licked her. Willow laughed, shoving his muzzle away. "No, down boy."

He flopped down, contentedly placing his nose on her feet. Willow looked back at Hela. Something tells me you know my answer." She smirked.

Hela smirked back. "Definitely. Go ahead, absorb him," she encouraged.

"Hey Brownie, I'm gonna put the reins on you, Kay? Is that okay with you?" she asked. Cerberus fairly leaped up, tail wagging eagerly. Willow took in a breath, feeling the gold stripe in her hair get almost scalding hot before her mind began to stretch. Willow gritted her teeth with the effort, gasping as the acclimation was complete. Disoriented, she just stood still for a moment, breathing.

"Now, bargain's struck. As much as I regret it, I'm going to have to transfer you back. Don't worry, I'll make sure you don't get any broken ribs this time," Hela informed, adding a wry grin for good measure. Willow just nodded, a bit dazed still.

"Th-thanks," she said, taking in a grounding breath and calming herself. Inside her mind, she faintly felt the others stirring to greet the newcomer. Then she nodded and looked at Hela. "Hope the next time I see you isn't through the front door," she said with a smirk, and earned a more chilling laugh.

"True," Hela agreed. "Now... goodnight, Willow Friggadottir. Don't forget our bargain," she said sweetly, dark green eyes flashing gold as everything around Willow went dark.

Then she was rising sickeningly fast, and the last thing she knew was a dull ache in her chest before she lost consciousness fully.


End file.
